


hearts will be glowing

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, Magic, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: these twelve days of christmas change everything for junmyeon.unbeknownst to junmyeon, they will change everything for sehun too.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 292
Kudos: 183





	1. december 13th: the first day

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is inspired by the movie "my christmas love" which i have not actually seen and never intend to see. i think my story is better but that's because it's got exo. hard to beat that.

  
  


❄

On December 13th, a light snowfall gently tumbles towards the earth, an icy blue swirl of magic moving through the air.

That very morning, Junmyeon hears a soft knock on the door, so he hurries over, not even stopping to change from his fluffy white Jessica Simpson-branded house slippers, stepping out just in time to find an obscenely large, absurdly wrapped gift on his doorstep. He tilts his head to the side, observing it. He looks left to right, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever left it, but there’s no one to be found. 

He checks the front of the folded paper tag. Sure enough, it bears his name in cursive. _Junmyeon_ , all filigreed and looping. Must be a delivery service or something. 

The wrapping paper is bright silver-gold, and the oxblood red bow is bigger than his head. He picks up the gift, both arms tightly around the middle, and he attempts to navigate his way back inside with it in his embrace. 

It doesn’t work so well. 

Frustrated, he tries to prop open the screen door with his foot, gently kicking it open so he can plaster the gift against the wooden door long enough to get his hand down to the golden knob. 

A bigger hand beats him there. 

He turns, winded, to find Sehun standing there with a smile and an extraordinarily large travel mug. He always seems to find himself in the most embarrassing situations when Sehun’s around. 

“Need a hand?” he laughs. 

“I’m struggling,” Junmyeon says. “Help me get this inside.” 

Sehun opens the door swiftly and without warning, and Junmyeon nearly collapses on top of the gift. 

“Whoops, shoulda said something,” Sehun says. “Sorry about that.” 

“You are not sorry,” Junmyeon says, and he brings the box out towards the kitchen, setting it onto the countertop. “You are a demon. You are possessed.” 

“I brought the spiced coffee you like.” He wiggles the travel mug back and forth tantalizingly. “From Last Drop. Am I a demon now? Hm? _Hm?_ ” 

Junmyeon frowns. “Set it on the counter for me.” 

“What are you wearing, by the way?” Sehun asks, looking down at Junmyeon’s pajamas. Junmyeon is happy they’re at least a matching set, blue plaid. “Aren’t you, you know, coming to work?” 

“Give me a couple minutes,” Junmyeon says, and he ruffles his hair with a hand. “Woke up late. I guess my alarm went off, and I didn’t even hear it.” 

“Lucky you have me, then,” Sehun says, puffing out his chest proudly. “Not only am I here to make sure you open on time, but I also brought the good coffee.” 

“I am astounded by your ability to provide for me,” Junmyeon deadpans. He brings both of his hands together, swooning blankly. “Thank God for Sehun.” 

“That’s more like it,” Sehun says, and he takes a seat by Junmyeon’s countertop, tapping his foot against the tile. “Okay, hustle up. We’re gonna be late.” 

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” 

Junmyeon rushes upstairs, regretfully stepping out of his aforementioned slippers as he begins to dress. Slipping into a sweater and some jeans, he pads around in his socks as he fixes his hair, brushes his teeth, and by the time he gets downstairs, Sehun has made himself quite comfortable, helping himself to one of Junmyeon’s granola bars. 

“What?” Sehun asks. “I was hungry, and I got up early to get you coffee.” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes to mask how touched he is. Showing his vulnerable side would only get him an earful of how soft and sweet he is. 

“Come on,” he says, and he steps into his shoes, wrapping his scarf around his neck and threading his arms into his coat before gesturing for the mug of coffee. “Let’s go, let’s go.” 

Sehun follows behind him, bringing along the coffee as he was bade. The door locked behind them, they begin the half-mile walk to the center of town, Junmyeon’s hands wrapped firmly around the mug. He sips at it carefully, but it is cool enough to drink now. He indulges quietly as Sehun walks beside him, their shoes crunching along the soft white blanket of snow that has fallen overnight. 

The coffee is sweet, perfectly spiced, and he makes a gentle sound of pleasure. Sehun laughs, bumping his shoulder into Junmyeon’s. 

“I’ll give you money,” Junmyeon says. 

“Come on. On the house,” Sehun says. “Free of charge. Pro bono.” 

“Not for the coffee,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll pick up breakfast.” 

Sehun shrugs happily. “I won’t say no.” 

“Pastries from Red Barn,” Junmyeon nods. “A danish.” 

“Cherry cheese danish?” Sehun asks, and Junmyeon agrees. “Very good choice. Still, I think I’ll be doing… I dunno, they had some coffee cake donuts yesterday that looked really good?” He looks over to Junmyeon, and he picks up his pace, widening his strides so that he easily zips past him. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late.” 

“Oh, you’re so tall, aren’t you?” Junmyeon says, and he picks up the pace, struggling to stay alongside Sehun. “Remember our previous conversation?” 

“About demonic possession?” Sehun smiles. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “You’re not really helping your case here.” 

Sehun smiles, and he bumps his shoulder into Junmyeon again. 

It is a pleasant morning, pleasantly cold, and Junmyeon clutches the coffee to his chest, a burst of warmth blooming through him. The book shop will be nice and warm once he turns the heating on, and as they walk, he day-dreams about curling up with a nice book in his office. After he’s finished with his expense reports, that is. 

“So,” Sehun says. 

“So,” Junmyeon answers. 

“What was with the present?” 

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, frowning. “I’d kinda forgotten.” 

“How could you forget about a massive present that you almost crushed under your body weight?” Sehun asks. “Don’t you wanna know what’s inside?” 

“Well, now that you mention it, it’s all I can think about,” Junmyeon says. “But, I mean, aren’t you supposed to wait for Christmas? You know. Do not open until the 25th.” 

“Who cares?” Sehun asks. “I would open it.” 

Junmyeon shrugs. “I feel like that ruins the magic.” 

“Well, of the two of us, you’ve always been the one with holiday cheer,” Sehun says with a smile. “What do I know? Save it for Christmas.”

They get to the bookstore, and Sehun wordlessly takes the mug from Junmyeon’s hand as he unlocks. He shoots a look at the storefront, beautifully decorated with twinkle lights, a carefully cultivated selection of books, and paper snowflakes strung along the panes. It looks perfect, but he’s been nagging Sehun about the caulking for what feels like an eternity. 

Sehun follows his eye line and sighs. 

“I’ll fix it today,” Sehun says. 

“You’ve been saying that for days now,” Junmyeon says. “I’m just saying, there will be a reason the heating bill will be sky-high this month.” 

“That’s what you get for leasing an old building,” Sehun says. “Drafts, creaky floorboards, and ghosts.” 

“I feel like it adds a little to the ambience.” 

“Stealing it directly from your wallet,” Sehun says as Junmyeon lets them both inside, turning on the lights behind them, the bells jingling as he shuts the door. “It’s your store. Not like I have a vested interest or anything.” 

“Yeah, you’ve only been gainfully employed here for what, ten years?” Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Hold it over my head, why don’t you? See if I get you a nice danish,” Sehun threatens. “I’ll pick the ugliest of the bunch.” 

“Keep it up,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll make you wash the rugs.” 

“Oh, gross.” Sehun frowns, rubbing his arms. “People come in with their dirty shoes… street grime and salt and everything.” 

“Go get breakfast,” Junmyeon encourages, and he pulls out his wallet, slipping money into his hand. “It’ll be nice and warm by the time you get back.” 

“Remember, we’re getting that shipment today,” Sehun says, shoving the money into his coat pocket. “Check the calendar.” 

“Thank you for the reminder.” 

“You don’t sound thankful.” 

“That’s just my voice,” Junmyeon says. 

“Where’s the cheer?” Sehun wonders. “Where’s the joy? Where’s all the _merry and bright_?” 

“Too early for _merry and bright_.” 

“I’ll take caffeinated and content for two hundred, Alex,” Sehun says, and he pushes out through the door, bells jingling behind him. 

He looks around the empty bookshop, and for the first time in a great long while, he takes stock of things. It is not perfect, but it is his. Original wood floors, brick walls… the rugs are dirty, Sehun was right, but nothing a good wash can’t fix. The bookshelves were handmade from a local carpenter, oiled and dark. The lighting fixtures are old-looking Edison incandescent bulbs, and it gives the place a vintage, homey feel. 

There’s a selection of armchairs along the far wall by the coffee station, each a different jewel tone, deep emerald, ruby, amethyst, and citrine. Pillows in neutral colors have been embroidered with small quotes from his favorite books, and honestly, Junmyeon thinks that might be his favorite part. 

Junmyeon unthreads himself from his scarf and coat as he gives it one final look around, walking back to his office to deal with those reports. He wants to finish _Pachinko_ and get started on a new book before the day is through.  
  


❄

They walk home after a fairly normal day. Travelers and tourists stroll through the shop, relaxation leaking off of them in waves. Junmyeon finds it easy to make recommendations, aid them in their shopping experience when he’s finished with his more clerical tasks. Sehun is a good salesperson too, gently pushing the homemade paper and watercolor-painted bookmarks from a local craftswoman as he sits manning the old-fashioned register.

He regularly complains about it, but Junmyeon thinks it gives the shop that extra little _something_. 

Sehun closes up and gets to work on caulking the windows, and Junmyeon orders dinner as he observes from the corner of the store. He sits in one of the big plush armchairs, legs all folded up as he reads. 

“You look exceedingly comfortable,” Sehun says, brushing sweat away from his forehead. 

“I’m the boss, I get to be comfortable,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I’m just about done here anyway,” Sehun says, “if you wanna start locking everything up.” 

Junmyeon closes his new book, _Mexican Gothic_ , and by the time he’s finished filing things away, last minute touches for the following day, Sehun is buttoning himself back into his jacket. Junmyeon joins him, smiling, and they walk down the street towards House of Pizza. Sehun picks up the order, and they walk back to Junmyeon’s together. 

“I wonder if it will snow again tonight,” Sehun says, looking up at the starry dark blue sky, and he turns to Junmyeon. “I’ll salt your walk on my way out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I can get it,” Junmyeon says. 

“Gotta pay you back for the pizza.” 

“You got coffee.” 

“You got breakfast.” 

“You got lunch?” 

“We are gonna do this until we’re dead, huh,” Junmyeon says. 

“What’s better than trading the same twenty dollars back and forth?” Sehun smiles, and he opens the storm door with his free hand once they arrive, holding the pizza out with the other. “After you.” 

Junmyeon opens the door with haste, and they kick off their shoes in a cold house. Junmyeon hurriedly fiddles with the thermostat, shuffling towards the kitchen, still wrapped up in his coat. 

“You have to start dressing warmer,” Sehun advises. “You’re always freezing.”

“Maybe it’s just that I have low iron,” Junmyeon says. “Ever thought of that?” 

“Did you get a white pizza?” Sehun asks, peeking under the lid. “Spinach would be good for you.” 

“Please. Peppers and onions, just the way you like it.” He points towards his cabinet. “Get some plates. You want a beer? Glass of wine?” 

“I’m good with water.” Sehun turns, gesturing with Junmyeon’s china. “Are you seriously not curious about that at all? Like, it really is the elephant in the room.” 

Junmyeon had forgotten all about it, yet again. He squints at the extravagant gift sitting on his counter. 

“I’m not worried about it,” Junmyeon says. “Probably from my mom.” 

“Please. If it was your mom, she would have come in and made you tea,” Sehun laughs, and he pulls himself two slices from the box. “I just wonder…” 

“It feels like you’re more invested in this than I am,” Junmyeon says. “Come on, let’s go watch Charlie Brown.” 

“Junmyeon.” 

“What?” 

“There’s still _two weeks_ until Christmas,” Sehun whines. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Junmyeon says. “Twelve days. There are exactly twelve days until Christmas. Besides, this is the most important stretch by far.” 

“Explain.” 

“In order to properly enjoy the holiday season, several conditions must be met.”

“Oh my god.” 

“First, you must engage in merriment,” Junmyeon says. “This includes, but is not limited to: watching holiday movies, decorating, listening to Christmas songs, driving around to see the lights, drinking festive hot beverages like hot cocoa, spiced coffee, and things with peppermint in them—” 

“Peppermint chocolate, continue,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon wrinkles his nose. “Second, you must be mindful of the season, and you must do everything in your power to be a better version of yourself.” 

“So now Christmas is life-coaching me,” Sehun complains. 

“And last but not least,” Junmyeon smiles, “you get your friends and family the best presents imaginable and lord it over them until next Christmas.” 

“Whatever you say,” Sehun says, and he pads over to Junmyeon’s couch, settling in for an evening filled with cheer against his will. “You are the best at gifts.” 

“That’s what they tell me,” Junmyeon says cockily.  
  


❄

Junmyeon is in the middle of cleaning up after Sehun’s gone when his eyes land on the present. Sehun made him curious, infected him with the idea, and for that, he will pay. Just as he told Sehun, Junmyeon isn’t in the business of opening before the 25th, the sacred rule passed down through the ages. _Still_ he thinks, _what would be the harm in opening the card and reading the message inside?_

He walks over, and he brushes his fingertips against his name on the front of the tag, an elegant calligraphy so looped and beautifully rendered that he can barely read it. 

He opens the tag along the crease, and there is a message in an unfamiliar hand-writing inside. 

_Junmyeon,_

_By the end of these Twelve Days of Christmas, everything will be known, all will be merry, all will be bright._

Heart thumping in his chest, he notices that it is only signed with an initial. 

_C_

His stomach drops, and for a moment, he considers not opening it. 

He shouldn’t open it. 

He really shouldn’t. 

Unseasonal, discordant greed leaps into his throat. 

He tears open the present, pulling the thick wrapping paper to reveal the cardboard box. He grabs a knife, slicing into the masking tape and pulling the flaps open to reveal... _an assortment of Tatcha sheet masks?_ He takes them out, marveling at them one by one, countless different products all in the signature purple: _Dewy Skin, Deep Hydration, Revitalizing Eye Masks_. 

Just when he’s unpacked all of them, assuming that would be the end of that, he notices there at the bottom of the large cardboard box rests a lavender-wrapped wooden box surrounded by bubble wrap and air packs. Fragile. Lovely. 

The kiribako is elegant and rich, and he unwraps it from the purple cloth covering to reveal the soft, beautiful wood beneath, stamped with the Tatcha logo in bright, lustrous gold. He lifts the lid, stunned by the beautiful treasures within. The camellia cleanser, the rice polish exfoliant, the essence, the eye cream, the brightening serum… the luxury seems to go on and on. 

Junmyeon marvels at the gift, thinking that it must have cost a relative _fortune_. He ghosts his fingers over the heavy glass, the slick, smooth surface. He turns, and he does what he always does when there is a crisis. 

The familiar sound of FaceTime dialing fills the empty kitchen, and Junmyeon paces nervously. 

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks, cold air puffing out of his mouth as he walks. “Forget something?” 

“I opened the gift,” Junmyeon says, playing with the hem of his sweater. 

“Nice,” Sehun smiles before he knits his eyebrows together. “Wait, what happened to your rule?” 

“T-The tag,” Junmyeon says. “It said—someone’s giving me twelve gifts. Twelve Days of Christmas.” 

“Oh, cool!” Sehun says, eyes bright and wide before his whole face melts into a frown. “Who’s it from? Why do you look so upset?”” 

“I-I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I… there was no name.” 

“There was no name?” Sehun asks. 

“T-There was an initial.” 

“What initial?” 

Junmyeon waffles, biting his lip before he confesses. “C.” 

“Oh my god,” Sehun laughs, throwing his head back, cheeks and nose pink with the night’s cold. “Good luck with that one.” 

“It’s not funny,” Junmyeon says. “What’s funny about this?” 

“Everything,” Sehun says. “Literally everything about it. You know you have to go see him, right? You have to talk things out. Be an adult and everything.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Junmyeon groans. 

“Well, perfect timing,” Sehun says, and he steps onto his porch with a smile. “I’ll be going now. I need to defrost.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Whatever to you,” Sehun says as he opens the door, and he is bathed in darkness for a moment before turning on the lights. “You want coffee tomorrow?” 

Junmyeon sulks. “Yes, please.” 

“Be nice to me, then,” Sehun smiles. “Plus, I’ll even let you run out to deal with your boyfriend during lunch.” 

“ _Boyfriend?_ ” Junmyeon squawks. “ _Let?_ ” 

“Good night,” Sehun sings. 

“I hate you,” Junmyeon says, and he hangs up the call, slumping to the counter in front of him. 

It takes him a moment, but eventually, he takes his new skincare routine upstairs with a cup of hot chocolate, resolute to at least enjoy the present before he deals with the shrapnel.  
  


❄


	2. december 14th: the second day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon wakes the following morning with a sweeping sensation of doom swallowing him whole. Absently, he reaches up to touch his cheek and slowly, that feeling of doom subsides. His skin has never been softer.

He gets up, going through his normal morning routine. He’s in the middle of washing his face when he hears the telltale sign that he is completely fucked. 

The knock on the door. 

“S-Shit,” Junmyeon whispers, and he toes off his slippers, hurrying down the stairs to catch him at the door. 

He nearly falls, holding the free spots on his decorated balustrade, careful not to crush the fake poinsettias. Once he’s at the landing, he unlocks the door, whipping it open to find absolutely no one... but not absolutely nothing. 

Junmyeon sighs as he stares down at a small rectangular package wrapped in the same color scheme as the first gift, cool-toned gold wrapping paper and an appropriately sized deep red bow. He leans down, picks it up, and the tag bears his name just the same as the first. _Junmyeon_ in the loopy cursive, in the lovely, masterful script. 

He taps the gift against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. This will be a difficult day, no matter how he slices it. 

Junmyeon places the gift by the tree with great care before hurrying upstairs and throwing himself back into his routine. He dresses simply, but at the same time, he puts a lot of thought into it. It’s not like this is everyday. He wears a simple black t-shirt, simple dark jeans, and he looks at himself in the mirror. Coupled with the big puffy jacket with the grey fur lined collar and one of his hats, he’ll look cute. Really cute, if he says so himself. 

Suddenly, he hears a knock on the door. He nearly throws himself back down the stairs in order to answer, but the person standing on his doorstep is not his Secret Santa. 

“Why do you look so disappointed?” Sehun asks, gently nudging Junmyeon out of the way by pushing the travel mug of coffee into his hands. 

Junmyeon scoffs. “I don’t look disappointed.” 

“Sure, sure,” Sehun says, and he sits at Junmyeon’s counter just like the day before, wearing a smile. “You look nice today.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying, it’s almost like… like you’re going on a date or something,” Sehun grins. “You’re glowing.” 

“Shut up, shut up,” Junmyeon says. 

“Are you excited to see him again? It’s been, what, a year since the last time we all got together?” Sehun says, drum-rolling his hands on the counter. 

“You’re giving me an ulcer,” Junmyeon says, and he sips from the mug before setting it down. “Lemme just get my shoes.” 

“You think he wants to get back together, then?” 

“I don’t know.” Junmyeon stares at the little box under the tree as he ties his shoes on auto-pilot. “He sent another one today.” 

“What was it?” Sehun asks, and he appears under the archway where Junmyeon hung his mistletoe, coffee in hand. 

“I haven’t opened it yet.” 

“What are you waiting for?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “It makes me… I dunno, like, we ended things on a good note, didn’t we? We both—I honestly don’t know. I thought we had come to an understanding.” 

Sehun shrugs his shoulders. “People change their minds.” He raises a brow as he stares at Junmyeon. “Have you changed your mind about him?” 

“ _God_ , no,” Junmyeon says. “We were a wreck together.” 

Sehun smiles as if recollecting. “It was fun while it lasted.” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes as he stands, grabbing his coat and slipping the present into his pocket. “Glad _someone_ had fun.” He zips up his jacket, and he pouts. 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“I wanted to ask if I could borrow your car,” Junmyeon says, cocking his hip to the side. 

Sehun grins. “I figured. I drove it here, so, you know. Lunch time.” 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says. “I just wanna get this taken care of as soon as possible. Tonight at the very latest.” 

“No worries, I know you,” Sehun says. “Now, let’s go. The shop awaits.” 

It’s different, being chauffeured around instead of walking, but he enjoys Sehun’s heated seats for all of about two minutes as they pull up at the end of the block. They get out together, and they hurry into the cold building. Junmyeon immediately throws on the heat, and he stands by the window for a moment to judge. 

“How is it?” Sehun asks over his shoulder, staring down at his work. 

“Perfect,” Junmyeon says, and he turns. “Thank you.” 

Sehun smiles. “No problem. Just let me know if you think the window in the back needs it too.” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he feels Sehun walk away, busying himself by the register. 

He unthreads himself from his coat, absently wishing he had brought a light jacket. His bare forearms immediately line with goosebumps, and he looks around, hoping to find a sweater he’d left somewhere around. 

“Here,” Sehun says, and suddenly, a bright burst of white is flying towards his face. “Whoops. Thought you would be ready.” 

“Can you, like, warn me?” Junmyeon asks, and he grabs the sweater from where it hit him, unballing it to put it on. It hangs off him, too oversized to be his. “Is this yours?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I had it here just in case. You looked cold, though.” 

Junmyeon lifts the sleeve to his nose, and he sniffs. It smells like Sehun. Coffee and cologne. 

“Hey,” Sehun says, staring at Junmyeon. “That’s rude, you know. I was doing you a favor.” 

“Please, you’re so sensitive,” Junmyeon says, “it smells good, that’s all.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, and he turns away sharply. “Don’t you have stuff to do in your office?” 

Junmyeon shrugs, and he walks back towards his office, turning on the lights for the day. He sets his coat down on one of the chairs, gingerly pulling the gift from his pocket. 

He takes the card away, and he reads: 

_Junmyeon,_

_“Once upon a time, the best day of my life was the day we met, but every day we’ve spent together since has become the new best day.”_

_M_

Junmyeon bites his lip, unable to keep his heart from warming at the words. Maybe— _no_ , he tells himself forcefully. _You can’t just fall for some sweet words and some expensive skincare._

And what was with the initial? Is he trying to play hard to get? 

He puts the tag down, sitting in his chair, and he plays with the tape along the side of the gift. 

Junmyeon loses himself as he stares at the gold, luminous and entrancing. Today will be a complete and total nightmare. 

There is a knock on his door, and it swings open without his answer. 

“Junmyeon.” Sehun notices the gift with a smile. “Oh, is it present time?” He folds his arms over his chest. “Go on.” 

“I don’t think I should,” he says. “It’s already too much.” 

“Just open it,” Sehun says. “If he wants to take them back after you dump him for the fourteenth time, then that’s on him and he’s a scumbag. Go on. Open!” 

Encouraged by Sehun’s words, Junmyeon tears into the wrapping to uncover a box bearing an unfamiliar brand name: _Baume et Mercier_. He pops open the top to uncover a stainless steel watch, a dial of pure white with a crescent moon phase complication. 

“Holy shit,” Junmyeon says, gently tilting the box so that Sehun can see. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Sehun says, and he wears a worried look. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, it’s just—” and he breaks into a small smile, “it’s gonna make my present to you look like shit.” 

“Please,” Junmyeon says, rolling his eyes. “It’s the thought that counts, you know that.” 

“Everyone says that, but the thought behind some new pillowcases and a Lexus in your driveway,” Sehun says, and he moves his hands like Libra’s scales. “Not really the same thing.” 

“What if I really needed some new pillowcases?” 

“What if you really needed a car?” 

“I’ve never thought of you as an overly materialistic person,” Junmyeon says even as he stares at the shiny metal. 

“I hate you,” Sehun says. “Do you wanna come out and check this new stock to make sure it’s all good to go?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, hugging his new watch close to him, Sehun’s sweater still wrapped around him. “I’ll be out in a second.”  
  


❄

The morning passes easily, with Junmyeon able to settle the incoming unpleasantness to a separate compartment in his head as he makes his final touches to the marketing for the annual book drive coming up on the 22nd. When Sehun pats his shoulder and points towards the clock around noon, Junmyeon is then immediately filled with dread.

“I’ll go later,” Junmyeon says. “I don’t wanna leave you during lunch.” 

Sehun looks at him funny, but he shrugs his shoulders. “I won’t make you go, you know.” 

“I know, I know,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll go after work, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Now can you go look in the back of the store? I think that kid shoved a pocket poetry book down the back of his pants.” 

“Gross,” Junmyeon whispers, but he heads back to deal with the dirty work. Well, at least some of it.  
  


❄

They lock up together like usual, and Sehun stops him before he heads towards the car, keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Sehun says. “You know, if you’re uncomfortable or he makes you—”

“No, no,” Junmyeon says. “It’s about time we put things behind us once and for all.” 

“If you’re sure,” Sehun says. “Remember that you can always put me on the phone, and I’ll handle him.” 

“Please, you’re just as bad as he is,” Junmyeon smiles. “I’ll be okay. You worry too much.” 

“Says the guy who worried all day long.” Sehun gives him a little wave. “Drive safely, okay?” 

“I will.” 

He heads over, and he gets into the driver’s seat of Sehun’s car. It’s weird, watching Sehun walk back towards home without him. They’ve been in their little routine for as long as Junmyeon can remember. This has certainly shaken things up as of late. 

It is quite the drive out of town, and Junmyeon really isn’t used to leaving now. He had gone everywhere he wanted to go when he was younger, and now he is quite content with his small town life that he's developed. Still, he cannot deny that the city is beautiful in the wintertime. 

The office is difficult to navigate, but when Junmyeon finds someone to ask for directions, they tell him to wait right there and they’ll get him where he needs to go. 

Junmyeon busies himself with his phone as he waits, but then, he sees a shadow. Junmyeon looks up to see him walking confidently down the halls, all shirt and tie and legs. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Chanyeol asks, eyes bright. 

Junmyeon stands up, and he lets himself be tugged into a quick, but serviceable hug. Junmyeon tries to study the body language. There’s nothing out of the ordinary to be found. It is a completely average embrace with no lingering affection, no hand at the small of his back or anything.

“I just thought I would swing by, and um, you know,” Junmyeon says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively, “catch up on things. Get on the same page.” 

“Uh, sure,” Chanyeol says, and he walks back through the halls, showing Junmyeon to his office. “What’s on your mind?” 

The door closes behind them, and Junmyeon looks around the office. It is super drab, filled with paperwork but also with the smell of spiced apples. Junmyeon notices a candle warmer off to the side, a Yankee Candle sitting atop it. He smiles. 

“So, I… you know, I just wanted to be upfront and say thank you,” Junmyeon says, and he takes the seat next to Chanyeol’s desk as Chanyeol sits behind it. “It was really, I mean _really_ too much. You shouldn’t have.” 

“I’m not following,” Chanyeol grins, leaning up on his elbows. 

“The gifts,” Junmyeon says, and he pulls up the sleeve of his coat to reveal the watch. “This is too much. Like way too much.” 

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chanyeol says, nodding towards the watch, “but nice flex.” 

“Oh my God,” Junmyeon says, and he scoots his chair forward, taking Chanyeol by the hand. “Look, we can come clean. We can be honest with each other. I came to talk about our relationship, because while I am truly _flattered_ by the gifts and the cards, Chanyeol, truly, I am, I—” 

Chanyeol gives Junmyeon’s hand a tight squeeze and says, “Before you go any further, I really think you should explain to me what’s going on.” He offers Junmyeon a shy smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea.” 

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says, and he pulls the tag out from his coat pocket, slipping it into Chanyeol’s hand. “I mean, it’s signed _C_ , so I assumed—”

“This is not from me,” Chanyeol says. “And you know this isn’t my handwriting.” 

“I-I just assumed you, you know, had gotten a delivery service or something,” Junmyeon says. “You’re serious? It’s not from you?” 

“I’m serious,” Chanyeol says. “Wait, you thought I wanted to get back together with you?” 

“W-Well, what else am I supposed to think?” Junmyeon squawks. “You sent me a watch and some expensive Japanese skincare.” 

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol says with a big, bright smile. 

“Oh my God, I’m such an idiot,” Junmyeon says. “Forget I came here. Forget I said anything.” 

Junmyeon begins to stand, but Chanyeol tightens his hold on Junmyeon’s hand, pulling him back down. 

“No, no, come on, I understand,” Chanyeol says, and he gives Junmyeon a smile. “I probably would have thought the same thing if I were in your position.” He shrugs his shoulders. “This would be super romantic.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he lowers his head. “It would be.” 

“So who else could it possibly be?” Chanyeol asks. “I mean, you date any other guys with C in their name?” 

“No?” Junmyeon says. 

“Are you sure?” 

Junmyeon gives him a flat look. “Yeah, I have no idea who I have and haven’t dated. No conception of their names at all.” 

“Don’t shoot the messenger, jeez,” Chanyeol says, and he sits back in his chair, just a little too small for him. “It looks like you’ve got a mystery on your hands.” 

“Exactly what I wanted this time of year,” Junmyeon says. 

“Aw, look at it this way,” Chanyeol says, “whoever it is must really like you.” He nods towards the card. “That’s not, like, some middle of the road shit. That’s, like, full blown love.” 

“You would think that I’d know if someone was in love with me,” Junmyeon says, staring down at the card. “I mean, it has to be someone close to me, right? Otherwise—” 

“Otherwise, you have a stalker on your hands,” Chanyeol says, and he hurriedly shuffles through his desk, retrieving a business card. “Here. If you need help getting a restraining order, I trust this guy.” 

“Oh, stuff it,” Junmyeon says, but he takes the card anyway, just in case. 

“It was good getting to see you again,” Chanyeol says. “No hard feelings, right?” 

“Right,” Junmyeon says. “Anytime you wanna come down and see us, you know where we are most nights.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Chanyeol says, standing with a smile, adjusting his tie. “The terrible twosome. How’s the shop?” 

“It’s good. Sehun is…” 

“Sehun,” Chanyeol nods understandingly. “Well, I wish you luck in your quest, traveler. And if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” 

“Thanks,” Junmyeon says, feeling all kinds of warmth dance through him. “Can I—”

He opens his arms for a hug, and Chanyeol steps to the side, embracing him fully. Weirdly enough, it feels like they’ve finally put their relationship fully in the rearview mirror, broken through some kind of impenetrable barrier of weirdness. 

“Come for the Christmas party this year,” Junmyeon says, holding Chanyeol by the arms. “We always miss you there.” 

“You think it will be okay?” Chanyeol asks. “I don’t wanna make things weird between us.” 

“You’re my friend,” Junmyeon says. “You’ve always been one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose you. I know that now.” He smiles. “Seeing you again, I just—”

“I know.” He looks Junmyeon up and down. “It made me realize how much I missed you.” 

“T-Then I’m glad I came,” Junmyeon says. “Thank you again.” 

“Drive safe,” Chanyeol says, and he narrows his eyes. “Did you drive Sehun’s car?”

“I did.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says. “Drive safe and tell him I say hi.” 

Junmyeon tells him he will, and he gives him a little wave as he goes.  
  


❄

Junmyeon drives back to Sehun’s, and once he’s on the porch, he bounces on the balls of his feet as he waits for Sehun to answer.

“Hey,” Sehun smiles, hurriedly pulling Junmyeon in. “Come in.” 

“I’m a popsicle,” Junmyeon says. “What took so long?” 

“Had to grab something out of the oven,” Sehun says. “How did it go?” 

“You will never believe it,” Junmyeon says, toeing out of his shoes as he pulls his coat off. “He said it wasn’t him.” 

“And you believed him?” Sehun snorts. 

“Of course,” Junmyeon says. “And, I mean, besides… there was a different initial on today’s gift.” 

“Wait, I was not privy to this information,” Sehun says, holding up his hands as they wander back through Sehun’s home to the kitchen. “I was under the impression they were both signed _C_. What did the second one say?” 

“ _M_.” 

“Min—”

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “Maybe it’s a coincidence because at this point, I am so confused. If both were from him, then why the _C_ on the first present? Misdirection?” 

“Money-wise, it makes more sense,” Sehun shrugs, and he grabs a cookie from the tray with a grin. “Courtesy of Pillsbury.” 

He gently places a small white cookie with a Christmas tree design on it in Junmyeon’s hand. 

“You were making cookies?” Junmyeon asks happily, taking a seat at Sehun’s kitchen table to enjoy. 

“I thought you might need some cheering up after a potentially disastrous day,” Sehun says. “But you look, like, relieved.” 

“I am,” Junmyeon says, brushing away the crumbs. “We, like, made up. _Made up_ made up, not like before.” 

“Right,” Sehun smiles. “Not fake making up for the sake of appearances and the sanity of your close friends.” 

“Shut up.” Junmyeon tilts his head to the side. “Wine?” 

“It’s a Monday,” Sehun says. Junmyeon frowns, and Sehun sighs. “I think I have a bottle of rosé, potentially one you left here.” 

“I’ll get it,” Junmyeon says excitedly, flouncing through Sehun’s home to fetch the wine.  
  


❄


	3. december 15th: the third day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon wakes knowing exactly what he’ll find on his doorstep, but he wakes up earlier than normal and he sits with a mug of coffee by the door. Junmyeon busies himself filling out a crossword.

While stuck on _12 letters, Woman of the world?_ , Junmyeon hears the telltale knock. He chucks the crossword to the side carelessly, throwing open the door with an emphatic “A-ha!” 

All that he finds is a fresh coating of snow and a small silver-gold gift bag stuffed with maroon tissue paper. Sighing, resigned to his fate, he grabs the gift and brings it inside. He goes back upstairs, gets ready, and by the time he heads back downstairs, there is another knock on the door. 

Sehun pops by like normal, bringing the good coffee for the third morning in a row. He’s wearing his normal coat, a little hat with a pom-pom on the top, and the plaid scarf that Junmyeon had gifted him two Christmases prior wrapped around his neck. That was the year that they’d unknowingly exchanged scarves. He remembers the way he burst out into laughter as he’d opened Sehun’s gift, and Sehun had punched him in the leg weakly before he’d opened Junmyeon’s gift to him. They looked like they could have been part of a matching set. 

Junmyeon thinks back on the memory fondly. 

Sehun’s been dusted lightly with snow, and Junmyeon finds that exceedingly charming, stepping aside so that Sehun can come inside.

“I must have been, like, extremely pious in another life?” Junmyeon asks, making grabby hands for the mug. “I’m being blessed for some reason.” 

“Maybe it’s just that I want to ensure a free breakfast,” Sehun says, brushing past him easily before stopping in front of Junmyeon’s chair. “What’s this?” 

“I was trying to snoop.” 

“And how far did you get?” 

“Exactly as far as always,” Junmyeon says. “Whoever is doing this delivery stuff is, like, scary good at getting the hell out of dodge.” 

“Hm,” Sehun says, narrowing his eyes as he stares at the chair. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks and he shuts the door behind them. 

“I was just thinking,” Sehun says.

“Thinking what?” 

“This is all very, you know,” he says, wiggling his hand, “mysterious.” 

“Hence getting to the bottom of things,” Junmyeon says. “Hence the chair. Hence the stakeout. I’m trying to put this to bed.” 

“It’s kinda fun,” Sehun says. “Where’s the present?” 

“Under the tree,” Junmyeon says. “Lemme get my shoes.” 

“Unwrap it.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “It’ll be all I think about all day. Gross.” 

“How romantic,” Sehun says flatly, and Junmyeon snorts. 

Junmyeon has his hands on his shoes, fingers in the laces, and he looks at Sehun suddenly. 

Of all the people Junmyeon has had run through his head, he never once considered Sehun. He takes stock of him then, letting their past run through his head. The way they met, the way they became fast friends. He had been a little intimidated by Sehun at first, the way he and Chanyeol had been able to finish each other’s sentences, his natural beauty and easy confidence, but they had found a common ground with their love of poetry. That common ground stretched over the years, swallowed hills and valleys all the same, and— 

“What are you looking at?” Sehun asks, and he turns as though he expects to see someone standing behind him. With the confirmation that there is no one there, he turns back around, raising his brows at Junmyeon. “Do I have something on my face?” 

_No_ , he thinks to himself. _It couldn’t be him. It would have come out by now. I’m being crazy._

“No, you’re good,” Junmyeon says, and he stands up, brushing his shirt down and putting himself into his coat. “God, I’m just… I feel like it’s driving me insane.” 

“Don’t think about it,” Sehun says with a smile.

“Easier said than done,” Junmyeon says, but he takes the coffee back from Sehun, holding it to his chest as they walk outside. “God, it’s so cold.” 

Junmyeon locks up quickly, hurrying along, and Sehun catches up to him easily, just a few longer strides. 

“You like the cold.” 

“I never said that,” Junmyeon says. 

“You definitely have,” Sehun says. 

“I just like things that go along with the cold,” Junmyeon says. “Hot drinks. Sledding. Winter fashion. Christmas spirit. Snow. You know. That kind of thing.” 

“You’re crazy.”

“Is it crazy?” Junmyeon asks. “Or is it really smart and cool?” 

“Crazy,” Sehun settles on, and he smiles down at Junmyeon as they walk, the little flurry dancing around them. “It’s really pretty, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Shit. I forgot to salt the walk.” 

“See, this is why I’m gonna do it for you from now on,” Sehun says. “Your luck, you’ll end up falling and breaking your leg or, like, your tailbone.” 

“I’m gonna break my ass? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

Sehun snorts. “That seems like you.” 

Junmyeon shoves him, and Sehun barely moves. He scoffs, and they shuffle off towards the shop together. He’s got a bunch of distributors to contact, emails to send and calls to make, but it is easy to forget about all that for the moment. The morning is beautiful, biting cold and wintry white, he is walking with Sehun, he’s got coffee from Last Drop and everything, everything, _everything_ will be okay in the end. 

“Did you wanna go by the school tonight?” Sehun asks as Junmyeon fiddles with his keys. “They’re having their winter concert.” 

Junmyeon unlocks, lets them in, and they begin their morning routine. Turn on the heat, unwrap themselves from their outerwear, and open the shop. 

“Ah, plus… Santa’s Workshop,” Junmyeon says. “They’re raising money to build a new library. Did you know that?” 

“I did not,” Sehun says. “Maybe we could—you know. Swing by.” 

“I think I might donate some books on top of buying your Christmas present there,” Junmyeon smiles. “You want a snow globe? I’ll pick you up a snow globe.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. “You would manage to find the gaudiest snow globe there.” 

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’d gift it to you,” Junmyeon says. 

“Words are powerful, and they _hurt_ ,” Sehun says, and he turns on the holiday playlist, nodding when it begins to filter through the speakers. Then, he begins to mess with his cork board behind the register, fixing the calendar. “I think I wanna change the quote.” 

“Yeah?” Junmyeon asks, and he looks at the cork board. “This one is nice, though. _The only people for me are the mad ones._ Very poignant.” 

“It’s not very Christmas-y,” Sehun frowns. 

“You could always go with a classic,” Junmyeon says. “ _I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year._ ” 

“You just walk around with Dickens quotes?” 

“You just walk around, able to identify Dickens quotes?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Whatever,” Sehun says with a smile, and he sits on his stool, scribbling on a scrap of paper. “You have stuff to do this morning?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says with a frown. “Contacts.” 

“Stinks,” Sehun says. “Let me know if you need any help. I’ll just be here. You know. Being adorable.” 

Junmyeon smiles as he heads back to his office, and for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, he busies himself with work. Still, with the carols slipping softly under the door, Sehun’s accompanying hum, it’s difficult to feel overwhelmed or upset or unfulfilled.  
  


❄

They are covered with advanced darkness by the time they lock up, heading over to the elementary school for the concert. They listen to the occasionally off-key children singing, and it fills Junmyeon with a sense of wonder, staring at their little hopeful faces. They applaud at the end of every number, but when a young boy stands to sing _Little Drummer Boy_ on his own, Junmyeon’s eyes fill.

His little voice soars out over the auditorium, and Junmyeon can see his hands shake as he clutches the microphone stand nervously. Junmyeon’s heart clenches in his chest as he watches the performance, so beautiful and pure. 

“He missed a verse,” Sehun whispers. 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, blinking back tears. 

The show ends after roughly one hour, and when they walk into the lobby to scope through the little holiday market, Sehun bumps his shoulder into Junmyeon’s. 

“You’re so emotional lately,” he says with a smile, handing Junmyeon a paper cup filled with Swiss Miss hot chocolate. 

“It’s not funny,” Junmyeon says, but he takes the hot chocolate anyway, sipping it as they browse the knick-knacks and tchotchkes.

“You were, like, one second away from crying,” Sehun says. “That’s so soft.” 

“I’ve just been… you know how the holidays get to me,” Junmyeon says, and he picks up a small stuffed animal with a sourpuss. “This is you.” 

Sehun bursts into laughter, and he hands a couple dollars over to the woman working the stand, tucking the stuffed animal under his arm. 

They buy a few things, whatever piques their interest, and they walk home together after everything is done, the paper cups crumpled in their hands. 

“This was a good suggestion,” Junmyeon says, sniffing through the cold. “Thank you. I had a lot of fun tonight.” 

“I’m glad,” Sehun says. “Thanks for coming with me.” 

“Please,” Junmyeon says. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

Sehun drops him off by the doorstep, and Junmyeon heads inside without another word. He starts to clean up his stuff, scrubbing at a pan he left to soak in the sink, and when he looks out the window, he sees Sehun all hunched over, salting the walk. 

Junmyeon stares at him, confused at the feeling in his chest. He takes a couple Tums, opens up the window, and waves Sehun away. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Sehun says. “Good night. See you tomorrow.” 

“See you,” Junmyeon says, and he shuts the window hurriedly so as to not let in any more of the cold air. 

On his way towards the stairs, he sees the glimmering of the gift bag. Huffing, he ignores it and heads up to his bedroom. He’s got something else more important to deal with first. 

Junmyeon collapses onto the bed, hand over his forehead as he tries to gather his energy, his mental fortitude. It’s been a couple months since he and Minseok had last spoken, but they were the kind of old friends that could deal with such a gap. He scrolled through his contact list, realizing just how many of his friends he’s entertained in a romantic sense, and he gets a familiar bolt of shame. 

Why can’t he just get something that sticks? 

He clicks the call button, holds the phone to his ear, and waits for Minseok’s voice to answer. 

“Junmyeon, hi,” he says happily. “I can’t say I expected to hear from you.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Junmyeon says. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Minseok asks. “I’m happy you called.” 

“You might not be when you hear _why_ I’m calling.” He fiddles with the hem of his sweater. 

“How ominous,” Minseok says cheerfully. “Well, let’s not beat around the bush. Tell me what’s up.” 

“S-So I’ve been getting these gifts,” Junmyeon explains. “And I’m trying to find out who has been sending me them.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And the last gift I got, it was signed with an M,” Junmyeon says. “So I wanted to see if, you know, maybe you had anything to do with them.” 

“What was the first gift signed with?” 

“A, uh, a _C_ ,” Junmyeon says. 

“Ah, the on-again-off-again love affair for the ages,” Minseok says wistfully. “I’m assuming you already asked Chanyeol.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, “so that’s why I’m talking to you now.” 

“Well, I wish I could put your heart at ease and tell you it was me, but this was not my work,” Minseok says. “But it is very romantic. Get anything good?” 

Junmyeon laughs. “Yeah. A Tatcha gift set and a new watch.” 

“Oh, holy shit,” Minseok says. “They’re not messing around, huh?” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “I want to be able to figure this out, but it really feels like I’m going in circles. L-Like the different initials, people from my past, it feels like fucking _Scott Pilgrim_ but I’m fighting my own exes.” 

“Are we fighting?” Minseok asks playfully. 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Junmyeon says softly. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Silence falls over the both of them, and for a moment, Junmyeon reminisces on his relationship with Minseok. Fresh off his first break-up with Chanyeol, Junmyeon had fallen into Minseok’s gentle embrace, and they had spent the summer together. By the end, Minseok had broken his heart, and Junmyeon was ready for his first rebound. With Chanyeol, of course. 

God, it seems like so long ago now… he was so different then. 

“I always wondered why things didn’t work out between us,” Junmyeon says. “I really loved you. I mean, I still love you, but—” 

“It’s okay,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon can hear his smile. “I understand.” There is a beat of quiet, and Junmyeon busies his free hand by picking at a loose thread on his sheet. “I think, honestly, and I don’t mean to be rude here, but I don’t think you ever really loved me like that.” 

“What are you talking about?” Junmyeon says. “Of course I did.” 

“In your own way. Not the way I loved you.” 

Junmyeon furrows his brow. “I don’t think you know how hurtful that is.” 

“It’s a hard thing to acknowledge,” Minseok agrees. “You know, being caught up in other things. Not seeing how everything is moving around you.” 

“I—Are you saying I’m selfish?” 

“Not in the least,” Minseok says, and he sounds so affectionate that it pulls at Junmyeon’s heartstrings. “I think you’re waiting for the right person to come along, but I don’t think you’ll have to wait too much longer.” 

“W-Wait,” Junmyeon says, “do you know who’s doing this? Tell me. Please, oh my God, tell me!” 

“What? No, I have no idea,” Minseok says. “I just have a feeling that by the end of this wild goose chase, you’ll know what you’re looking for. Does that make any sense?” 

“Y-Yeah, of course. I’m sorry,” Junmyeon says. “For bothering you over something like this. For not talking to you more often. I'm a shitty friend.” 

“Please, it’s fine,” Minseok says, and again, Junmyeon can hear the smile. “I think this is just the kind of relationship we have. And that’s okay. Just know that you always have me here to talk to if you need someone.” 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says. “And please know that… the offer always extends both directions. I’m always here for you too. I don’t think we should let years of friendship fall by the wayside just because, you know, we’re busy or whatever.”

“Thank you, Junmyeon, it really means a lot to me.” 

“A-And hey, I wanted to check anyway… are you coming to the Christmas party this year?” Junmyeon asks. “You know, just wanna make sure I get enough food.” 

“Somehow I don’t think you’ll have a problem overfeeding us,” Minseok laughs. “But yeah, of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“Good, I can’t wait to see you again,” Junmyeon says. “It’s been too long.” 

“You know, real life… always gets in the way.” 

Junmyeon laughs along with him and on the whole, it is a very pleasant conversation. Still, it leaves Junmyeon with more questions than answers regarding the twelve gifts. Who in the world could be sending these things?

Junmyeon sits up sharply, remembering the gift in the bag from the morning. He hurries downstairs, grabbing it and running back up the stairs. He lets the deep red tissue paper fall to the bed as he unwraps the present. 

A small distressed tin can rests in his hands after all the dressing has fallen away, and Junmyeon reads _Santal 26_ on the bone-white label, soon realizing that he has been gifted a candle. A very expensive candle. Uncapping the can, Junmyeon is immediately overwhelmed by the most luxurious, complex scent. Amber and vanilla, cocoa and cedar, spices and sandalwood and all of his most favorite things. Junmyeon holds the candle in his hands, mouth open as he wonders just what the hell is going on. 

Whoever it is must know him intimately. Whoever it is must really love him. 

Junmyeon chucks the candle to the bed as he fumbles for the tag to read. 

_My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you would silence me on this subject for ever._

Junmyeon immediately places the quote, and he holds the tag to his heart as he thinks, as he tries to remember who he might have shared such a quote with. It is one of his favorites, so anyone who he’s ever talked to about Jane Austen has probably heard him recite it. 

Frustrated, he flops back onto the bed, staring at the words. The initial has changed yet again, the note bearing the letter _B_ , and Junmyeon stares at the ceiling wondering exactly what he’s done to warrant such a horrible walk down memory lane. 

He lets the paper float to his bedroom floor as he takes the candle in his hand, sniffing at it. It really is a perfect present for him, and he’s just... shell-shocked. The person who knows him this well, the only person he would say really still knows every little part of him is— 

It couldn’t be Sehun. He knows that it couldn’t be, but still… there’s something about it that just _feels_ like him. 

Junmyeon’s stomach aches, so he recaps the candle and sets it on his bedside table. He takes his phone, calls Sehun, and waits for an answer. 

“Hello?” Sehun answers. 

“Hi,” Junmyeon says softly. “Sorry to call so late.” 

“It’s not even ten,” Sehun laughs. “You old lady.” 

“Shut up.” 

“What’s up?” Sehun asks. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he bites his lip as he debates asking. It doesn’t make any sense, of course. It couldn’t be Sehun, and yet… “Yeah, everything’s all right.” 

“Have another nightmare about all your teeth falling out?” 

“I wasn’t _asleep_ ,” Junmyeon says. 

“Sure, sure,” Sehun says. “I know your bedroom routine.”

“I haven’t even showered yet,” Junmyeon says. “Dealing with all this… fucking twelve gifts stuff.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks, and Junmyeon tries to suss out his tone. “What’d you get today?” 

“This candle.” He looks at it, the artful distressing, the aesthetic label. “It’s really nice.” 

Sehun scoffs. “Not much compared to the watch.” 

“I think I might actually like it more,” Junmyeon says. “It’s a really nice candle.” 

“It fuckin’ better be.” 

Junmyeon laughs, and God, he’s really glad he’s got Sehun. Even with all this craziness, he knows that he’s got Sehun… because at the end of the day, Junmyeon knows him. He knows Sehun would never do something like this. 

“Hey,” Sehun says softly. “It’s snowing.” 

“It’s been snowing a lot lately,” Junmyeon says sleepily. “That’s so nice.” 

“Yeah, it is.”  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anyone who was dying to know, the answer to the crossword clue was mother nature :-) and yes, these are the things that matter most to me.


	4. december 16th: the fourth day

  
  


❄

After exactly one attempt, he has completely given up on catching whoever it is in the act, so instead of worrying, he takes a leisurely morning shower, wraps himself in his borrowed sweater, gets his first cup of coffee of the day, and heads to the door to fetch his fourth Christmas gift like it’s the morning paper.

Junmyeon stares down at the box, tall and slender. The gold paper glimmers in the morning light. Junmyeon huffs as he bends over, nearly fumbling it. It weighs a lot more than he thought it would. He moves it left and right, standing there in the cold air, and he immediately understands it to be some kind of liquid. 

In fact, he would stake his life on the assumption that it is a bottle of wine. 

That certainly puts some pep in his step for the morning. He is busy solving one of his crosswords by the time Sehun arrives with his signature knock, four quick raps of his knuckles. Junmyeon leaps off his stool, heading to the door. 

He looks as lovely as ever, stepping inside with a gust of warmth.

“Morning,” Sehun says. “You look chipper.” 

“Did you bring more coffee?” Junmyeon asks, shutting the door behind them. 

“Not even a hello,” Sehun says, slipping the mug from behind his back into Junmyeon’s hands. “I know when I’m being taken advantage of, by the way.” 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says, and he takes a sip. “God, it’s just—it really is perfect.” 

“Glad you enjoy,” Sehun says, and he heads inside. “Doing your puzzles?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And I see you’ve got your present for the day,” Sehun says. “Anything good?” 

“Almost definitely alcohol,” Junmyeon says. “Wanna help me open it?” 

“Sure,” Sehun shrugs, and they surround the box, Sehun’s hand on the topmost fold. “Should I?” 

“Be my guest,” Junmyeon says, and he watches as Sehun enthusiastically tears the paper away from the box. “Okay, let me just—” and he lifts the top of the box. “Go on. Take it out.” 

Sehun lifts the bottle from the box, mouth falling open as the tag flutters to the countertop. 

Junmyeon takes it, reads: 

_”Sometimes I think about soulmates. Sometimes I think that we were always meant to be together. It’s okay to be patient.”_

_Y_

“Jesus,” Sehun says, turning the bright golden bottle in his hand to read the label on the bottle. _Tsarine Cuvee Adriana_. “Champagne?” 

“Wow,” Junmyeon says excitedly. “I wonder—”

“I wonder how expensive,” Sehun says. “I mean, this looks, you know. Fancy.” 

“I’m—You know, I’m beginning to feel a bit wary,” Junmyeon says. 

“Why? The price of all of it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “I mean, I like to be spoiled as much as the next person, but this is a little far, no?” 

“Yeah, totally,” Sehun says, and he spins the bottle casually as he laughs. “Like, seems a little desperate, doesn’t it?” 

Junmyeon laughs along with him, but he cannot pretend like it doesn’t make his heart ache inside his chest. He had never properly entertained the possibility of Sehun being the one behind all of it, but he was sure now that it could not be him. Why, then, did it feel like a disappointment to him? 

“You okay?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Just thinking, I guess.” 

“We gotta get going soon,” Sehun says, taking Junmyeon’s wrist in his hand and flipping it over to tap at the face of Junmyeon’s new watch. “Time for work.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his crossword book under his arm, gathering his coat and his scarf. “You hungry?” 

“We should get breakfast sandwiches,” Sehun says. 

“Not festive enough,” Junmyeon says, and he steps into his shoes. 

“What exactly would classify as festive enough for breakfast?” Sehun wonders. 

“Sugar plums,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I hate you,” Sehun says, but he takes the money from Junmyeon’s hand anyway as they walk back into the blustery morning, everything left behind. 

Junmyeon locks the door, their footsteps crunching over salt as they walk. He wonders about the letter, about the constant rehashing of the past. What could it mean? Do they want him to rediscover his love for someone he’s already passed by? 

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks, and he bumps his elbow into Junmyeon’s. 

“Just thinking,” Junmyeon says. “Yesterday was _B_. Today was _Y_.” 

“Baekhyun?” 

“And Yixing,” Junmyeon says with a huff. 

“You think it could either of them?” 

“Please. Yixing’s married,” Junmyeon says. “So definitely not him.” 

Sehun laughs. “No, but you never know.” 

“You think Yixing would ever cheat on someone?” 

“No,” Sehun snorts. “I just wonder, though.” 

“Wonder what?” 

“What the purpose of all this is,” Sehun says, and he shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “Like, why with the letters… why with the presents? Just fucking weird.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, stomach sinking with unnameable dread. “I don’t know.” 

They walk in silence for a moment or two, but after that time has passed, Sehun slings his arm around Junmyeon’s neck, and they walk in tandem. 

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Sehun says. “You know? You deserve nice things, so just… just take it all for what it is.” He smiles down at Junmyeon. “Plus, isn’t it nice to reconnect with people you don’t, you know, spend all day with? Someone other than me?” 

Junmyeon laughs. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“So don’t worry about it,” Sehun says. “Enjoy the presents.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” 

“As per usual.” 

They walk like that, comfortable and comforting, until they arrive at the shop. Junmyeon unlocks as Sehun salts the walk, and they head inside, sipping from the mug of coffee. 

“You’re not worrying, are you?” Sehun wonders, tapping his boots on the doorframe before closing the door behind him with a jingle. 

“About the gifts or the person sending it?” 

“About Baekhyun,” Sehun says. “I mean, I assume he’s next on your list.” 

Junmyeon sighs as he unwinds his scarf from around his neck. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Not nothing,” Sehun says. “You have that face.” 

“It’s just my face,” Junmyeon says. “I guess I should call him. See what he’s up to.” 

“He’s up in Portland too,” Sehun says. “I saw him about a month ago. We had dinner with Chanyeol.” Sehun pauses. “He looked good.” 

“Did he mention me?” 

Sehun smiles. “We talked about you, yes.” 

“What’d you say?” Junmyeon says. “What was said?” 

“Nothing important,” Sehun says. 

“Everything’s important now!” Junmyeon says, and he takes off his coat, rolling up the sleeves of Sehun’s sweater. “Is it okay if I keep this, by the way?” 

Sehun shrugs. “Looks better on you anyway.” 

“I know, right?” Junmyeon says, and he gives a little twirl. “I look so cute in oversized things.” 

“Very cute,” Sehun says flatly. 

They busy themselves with menial tasks, drawing the curtains and fixing the shelves, and Sehun’s voice jars Junmyeon from his thoughts. 

“Are you driving up there?” 

“Up to Portland?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun nods. “I was thinking about asking him to come by. For coffee or something. He always liked Last Drop, and they close late.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Sehun says. “You know, if you want.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, softening. “That, uh, that would be really nice.” 

“Cool,” Sehun says. “Give him a call, then.” 

That’s exactly what Junmyeon does. He gives Baekhyun a call over lunch, poking at his poke bowl as they make plans. Last Drop, eight ‘o clock that evening. 

Sehun sits at the register while he eats, reading a pocket novel, oblivious to the world, and Junmyeon stands there for a moment just observing him. 

Suddenly, Sehun looks over. 

“Everything all right?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, tightening the sweater around his waist. “Tonight at eight?” 

“Sounds good,” Sehun says, and he goes back to his lunch. 

Junmyeon does the same.  
  


❄

Sehun drives them both over to the coffee shop at the edge of town, and they wait for Baekhyun to arrive over Junmyeon’s favorite spiced coffee. His heart hammers with anticipation and caffeine, and Sehun laughs as he caps Junmyeon on the shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Sehun says. “Promise.” 

So they wait. 

When Baekhyun finally arrives, Junmyeon swallows thickly. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says, and he takes Junmyeon in a quick hug, pressing a kiss on Junmyeon’s cheek before moving to Sehun and doing the same. “God, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, Junmyeon.” 

“It kind of has been,” Junmyeon says. “We got you coffee. Hope that’s okay.” 

“Fine by me,” he says before tutting. “Yeah, you hillbillies up here in no man’s land. You never come down to the city.” 

“He went the other day actually,” Sehun says, pointing to Junmyeon, and Junmyeon glares at him.

“No visit? No call?” Baekhyun asks.

“It was official Christmas business,” Sehun nods with a smile, nudging Junmyeon with his foot under the table. 

“I had to talk to Chanyeol, actually,” Junmyeon says. “I was only there for like, fifteen minutes, tops.” 

“You guys getting back together again?” Baekhyun asks warily. 

“No,” Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Oh, thank God,” Baekhyun says, a hand on his chest. He lowers it slowly. “Wait, does that mean _we’re_ getting back together?”

“No!” 

“Then, who is getting back together? I’m lost,” Baekhyun smiles. 

“No one is getting back together,” Junmyeon explains. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of a mystery.” 

“I love mysteries,” Baekhyun says, and he takes a sip of his coffee. “You know, I’m a big Agatha Christie fan.” 

“ _Murder on the Orient Express_?” Sehun suggests. 

“All that shit,” Baekhyun says. “For sure.” 

“So… help me,” Junmyeon says. “Expert on mysteries.” 

“Fill me in on the details,” Baekhyun says. 

And so they do. They spend the better part of twenty minutes explaining the goings-on, and Baekhyun nods along, squinting as if he is making mental notes. By the time Junmyeon is finished talking, his mouth is dry, so he takes a quick sip of his coffee, staring expectantly. 

Baekhyun only stares back at him. 

“Well?” Junmyeon asks. “Tell me what’s going on, detective.” 

“Please,” Baekhyun says. “You can’t make sense of a mystery like this because it isn’t really a mystery.” He smiles, opening his hands. “It’s nonsense.” 

“That helps,” Sehun says drily. “We already knew it was nonsense.” 

“Yeah, but like, every good mystery has a dash of nonsense,” Baekhyun says. “The misdirection. The red herring. This… this is nothing _but_ the misdirection. You’re swimming in an ocean of red herrings.” He looks at his coffee cup, looks up mischievously. “I guess that’s why I’ve been summoned?” 

“You guessed right,” Sehun says. “You’re a suspect.” 

“Giving expensive gifts is a crime now?” 

“So it was you?” 

“Of course not,” Baekhyun says, turning towards Junmyeon. “I’m dating someone right now. Besides, while our time together was short, it was burning and passionate.” 

“I remember,” Junmyeon says, rolling his eyes. 

“Remember how you didn’t speak to me for three weeks after? Even though I was supposed to be _working_ with you?” Baekhyun teases. 

“Not relevant,” Junmyeon says. 

“Come to think of it,” Baekhyun says, turning to Sehun, “that was before you moved here for good, huh?” 

“He needed the help,” Sehun says. 

“Interesting.” 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Nothing,” Baekhyun says. “So who else do you have on your list?” 

“Everyone who isn’t you, Minseok, and Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says. 

“You really made your way through the old friend group,” Baekhyun smiles. 

“Are you implying something?” Junmyeon asks. 

“No, why would I imply anything?” Baekhyun glitters. “Just stating fact.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “It’s kind of a miracle that we’re all still friends.” 

“You think I could have ruined everything?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Maybe,” Baekhyun muses, “if any of us had, you know, had a serious enough relationship with you. If there was too much overlap. That kind of thing.” 

Junmyeon had never really thought of it like that before. He had changed a great deal over the past several years, but thinking back to college, who he was and what he did, the way he devoured as much love as he could just to keep himself above the clutch of the water… it feels forever away now. 

“Yeah, God,” Junmyeon says, and he covers his face with his hands. “Maybe this is all about punishing me.” 

“Oh, come on,” Sehun says. “You got a new watch and a bottle of champagne. This is hardly punishment.” 

“Why are they making me relive these things?” Junmyeon asks. “All my failed relationships… all my bad decisions.” 

“I’m gonna put that on my business card,” Baekhyun says. “Baekhyun Byun: Bad Decision.” 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Junmyeon says. “This is all… it gives me a weird feeling.” 

“Because you’re so eager to forget about where you’ve been, what you’ve done,” Baekhyun says. He raises his brows. “Do you feel ashamed?” 

“N-No,” Junmyeon says. “It’s nothing like that.” 

“Regret?” 

“I-I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “Maybe a little.” 

“Then that’s it,” Baekhyun says. “This is all about putting all your reservations about moving on to bed, once and for all.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You know, making sure you’re ready to start something new,” Baekhyun says. “Like, do you wanna go back to who you were before? Or do you like where you’re headed?” 

“Where I’m headed, I guess,” Junmyeon says, frowning. 

“You don’t wanna go back to my senior year? When you would come over and we would fuck around on my couch? Smoking weed and talking about Proust?” 

“I was the one talking about Proust,” Junmyeon says, “and you were the one smoking weed.” 

“I distinctly remember us smoking a couple times together,” Baekhyun argues. 

Junmyeon clears his throat. Feels weird saying this kind of thing in front of Sehun. 

“I’m good with where I am now,” Junmyeon says. 

“And you don’t have any lingering affection for me at all?” Baekhyun asks. “Not even a little tiny bit?” 

Junmyeon looks at him, studying him closely. He’s grown up in the last couple years, face filling out nicely, body filling out too. He looks a little more serious in his shirt and tie, hair brushed back. He looks like he’s got his shit together. Still— 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says, happy to find that he’s telling the truth. 

“Not even _friendship_?” Baekhyun asks. “Damn. You’re cruel.” 

“You know what I meant,” Junmyeon says, and then a bit more shyly, “no, like, romantic feelings.” 

“That’s good, then,” Baekhyun says. “You got what you came for.” 

And it occurs to him that Baekhyun is right, probably for the first time in his life. More than anything, the gift that is being given to him is the chance to put his past firmly behind him. And the good news is that he’s already gotten three ex-boyfriends out of the way. By his calculations, there are only a few more to go. 

And after that… what then? 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says. “I appreciate you coming down. I know it's a long drive, and—” 

“Please,” Baekhyun says. “I passed my parents on the way, and they were happy for the visit. No worries.” 

“Are you coming to the party?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, eyes sparkly and bright. “Can I bring someone?” 

“As long as you bring beer,” Junmyeon smiles, and the three of them stand, embracing in turn.

They watch as Baekhyun leaves, getting into his car and pulling away. It will be late by the time he gets home. The drive is long. He didn’t have to come, but he did. 

“He’s a good friend,” Junmyeon says softly. 

“He is,” Sehun agrees. 

Junmyeon looks at Sehun with a smile. “You are too.” 

“Thanks,” Sehun smiles. 

“You didn’t have to come, but… but I’m glad you did,” Junmyeon says. 

“There wasn’t anything to be worried about, but I knew you were nervous,” Sehun says, and he pulls out his keys. “You’re not good at handling stress.” 

“Fuck you. Yes, I am.”

“The last time we missed a shipment date, you nearly pulled your hair out,” Sehun laughs. “Do you remember what you said to me?” 

“No,” Junmyeon lies quietly. 

“You said _Sehun, if you don’t fix it, I’ll jump out the window_ ,” Sehun recalls. 

“I don’t remember that,” Junmyeon says, sniffing. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

“You’re stupid, but I love you,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon looks over, finds him smiling. 

He can’t believe he even considered Sehun. Someone holding a flame for so long, through so much… they couldn’t say those words so thoughtlessly, so carelessly, so _frivolously_. There simply isn’t any way. 

“We should go,” Junmyeon says, and his head swims as they walk out together. “God, coffee so late at night was such a bad idea.” 

“You wanna go see the lights?” Sehun asks. “We can drive around for a while.” 

Junmyeon grins. “Yeah? Festivities?” 

“Whatever you want,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon punches Sehun in the shoulder, and they take off in the car together. The town sparkles with red, green, blue, and gold, and Sehun turns on the music, rolling the windows down, letting Christmas songs float through the air. 

“This is so nice,” Junmyeon whispers, practically hanging out the window as he looks at the carefully constructed light displays. “Thank you. I feel… you know, this Christmas feels different than all the rest.” 

“I know,” Sehun says. “But it’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Different’s fine.” 

“Sometimes different is better than fine.”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon agrees. “Sometimes different is better.” 

The rest of the drive is quiet save for the twinkle of music, and when Sehun drops Junmyeon off at his sidewalk, Junmyeon has to admit, he doesn’t feel nearly as energized as he did just a half hour ago. 

Sehun makes to exit the car, and Junmyeon makes a noise of surprise. 

“What?” Sehun asks. “I’m gonna put salt down.” 

“Please,” Junmyeon says, “I’ll get it.” 

“You always forget.” 

“I won’t forget this time. A-And thanks again,” Junmyeon says, shutting the car door and leaning down to the open window. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun smiles. “See you tomorrow.” 

Junmyeon stands back from the car, waiting for Sehun to pull away. Sehun just sits there, one hand casual on the wheel as he stares back at Junmyeon. 

“Go on,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll see you.” 

“Go inside,” Sehun says. 

“You go,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’m waiting for you,” Sehun says, and he waves him off towards the door. “Go. It’s cold.” 

“You go!” Junmyeon says. “You don’t have to wait.” 

“I know I don’t,” Sehun says, and the _I want to_ goes unsaid.

Junmyeon stands there, caught between wanting to watch Sehun go and wanting Sehun to watch _him_ go, before he turns sharply, shocked by the feeling in his chest. 

“Bye,” Sehun calls, and Junmyeon hears the car pull away as Junmyeon’s hand freezes to the door. 

Does he like Sehun? 

Of course not. _Right?_  
  


❄


	5. december 17th: the fifth day

  
  


❄

  
  
Junmyeon wakes in the morning feeling as though this week has been the longest of his entire life. So many emotions have been rattling around inside him, the sounds tinny and strange, and as he stands to stretch, he catches the scent of the candle. Warm and deep. These presents, each tailored exactly to his taste, each luxurious and spoiled… it’s like eating too much chocolate cake. The richness is overwhelming.

He dresses for the morning, and when he heads downstairs, he fetches the gift from the doorstep. It is a flat box, long and rectangular like it’s got some article of clothing inside, and Junmyeon decides that at least a little bit more cake would be all right with him. 

Junmyeon rushes back inside to tear away the wrapping, forgoing the tag as he unboxes a beautiful blue cardigan made of soft wool. He gasps as he brings it out of the box, holding it to his body, jolting when he hears four knocks at his door. 

“Door’s open,” Junmyeon calls, and when Sehun enters, he finds Junmyeon on the floor, clutching the sweater to his chest. “Hi.” 

“Uh, hi,” Sehun says, quirking an eyebrow. “You okay?” 

“I got clothes,” Junmyeon says. “Well, clothe.” 

“A sweater,” Sehun says with a smile. “Nice. Now you can give me mine back.” 

“Not just a _sweater_ , an _Acne Studios_ sweater… this must have cost a fortune,” Junmyeon says dreamily before snapping back to reality. “Wait, what?” 

“My sweater.” 

“You offered it to me,” Junmyeon says with a frown, letting the precious cardigan fall to his lap. “You _gave_ it to me.” 

“Well, more accurately, you _took_ it from me,” Sehun says. 

“So we’re fighting,” Junmyeon says. “You want to fight me.” 

“This isn’t an attack,” Sehun smiles. “I’m just saying. I got my sweater from Target.” He points at the new sweater. “That looks more your style.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. “I’m keeping it.” He lowers his eyes. “W-Well, unless you really want it back.” 

“I’m just joking,” Sehun says. “Keep it.” 

“You’re giving me a lot of mixed signals here, you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sehun says. “Why don’t you lift yourself off the floor and we can get moving?” 

Junmyeon gingerly lays the article of clothing across his banister before he gets his coat, staring at it with desire. 

“I’ve never seen you look at a man the way you look at that sweater,” Sehun laughs, “and you’ve dated literally everyone.” 

“Enough out of you,” Junmyeon says. “Fashion.” 

“I keep hearing about this so-called fashion, but I never see it,” Sehun says. 

“Ouch. _Ouch._ ” 

“What’s this look today, then? Same as always? Sexy Librarian? Young, Untenured Literature Professor?” 

“Are you calling me sexy?” Junmyeon teases. 

“Shut up,” Sehun says with a shy smile, and he turns his back to Junmyeon. “We’re gonna be late. Again.” 

“I’m going,” Junmyeon says, and he steps into his shoes, tying them quickly. 

Sehun walks outside before Junmyeon is finished, still wrapping his scarf around his neck as Sehun walks down the way. Junmyeon hustles to lock up, jogging to catch up to him. 

Suddenly, at the end of the sidewalk, he hits a patch of ice. His first thought as he begins to fall backwards is _Oh no, Sehun will get to say he told me so_. He makes a completely instinctual noise of surprise, of fear, but within a split second, Sehun has turned around, swung back, and grabbed Junmyeon by the arm so that he doesn’t fall backwards onto his ass. 

Time seems to slow as Junmyeon stares up at Sehun, their hands wrapped tightly together. His heart pounds in his ears, and he can’t hear anything besides that, the rush of blood, the adrenaline that screams through him. 

“Oh my God,” Junmyeon says, holding onto Sehun for dear life. “Jesus Christ.” 

“I told you you’d forget,” Sehun says. 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, and he gasps as Sehun pulls him up straight. “F-Fuck.” 

“Yeah, fuck,” Sehun says, and he points an accusatory finger. “Be more diligent.” 

“Like you?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says proudly. “Like me.” 

Junmyeon scoffs, and they walk a bit less eventfully. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says quietly. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon says a bit more emphatically. 

“Nice,” Sehun smiles. “You’re welcome.” 

Junmyeon’s heart eventually returns to normal as they walk down the street. They stop by the bagel place before they go to the bookstore, and Junmyeon pays as he sips from their coffee. They head down to the shop after, and Junmyeon hops from foot to foot as he waits for the heater to ache to life. 

“Ah,” he says, and he warms his hands by the air. “This is the nectar of life.” 

“Coffee is the nectar,” Sehun says. 

“Coffee is the nectar,” Junmyeon nods. 

They are slow to unpack, the cold mornings freezing them in their place, but once Sehun begins to eat, Junmyeon takes a seat next to the register and eats along with him. 

“Who’s on the schedule today?” Sehun wonders, biting at his bagel. 

“Yixing,” Junmyeon says. “I don’t think it’s him, but I still feel like—”

“He’s the next stop on the Jilted Lovers Tour,” Sehun nods. “I understand.” 

“I’m sure he will too,” Junmyeon says flatly. “I’m making him give up his time just to, what, put my heart at ease?” 

“He’s very accommodating. Very understanding,” Sehun says, and he takes a bite. Speaks with his mouth full. “Don’t worry.” 

Junmyeon is disgusted, and Sehun smiles at him. 

“Seriously, though, you wouldn’t worry about bothering people if you were in my position?” 

“I never worry about bothering people,” Sehun says, and he takes another bite, chewing and swallowing. “A great poet once said _my presence is a present._ ” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “Come on. You’re always worrying.” 

“You think?” 

“I know,” Junmyeon says. “You’re always so concerned about how you’ll be perceived.” 

Sehun laughs. “You think you know me.” 

“I _do_ know you.” 

“Sure, sure,” Sehun says, and he crumples his wrapper in his fist. “You should eat. I have to run down to the printers for the book drive stuff. And I thought you had that conference call at nine?” 

“S-Shit,” Junmyeon says, and he stuffs his face full of everything bagel before someone takes it away from him.  
  


❄

  
  
He texts Yixing after his big call, trying to draft a perfect, perfectly reasonable message.

 _Hey there,_ he writes. _I hope you’ve been well lately. I was wondering if I might be able to ask for a bit of your time. Phone call, FaceTime, whatever works for you, I know how busy you are. Thanks—miss you lots!_

Junmyeon puts the phone away for the better part of the morning, and he’s lucky that he checks by the time they break for lunch. Yixing has responded. 

_Hey, I’ll be in the next town over today until two. Could meet for coffee? Otherwise, I can give you a call tonight._

“Sehun!” Junmyeon calls. “Could you give me a ride?” 

“Where do you need to go?” 

“Northport,” Junmyeon says. 

“Cool,” Sehun says. “I wanted to get a lobster roll anyway.” 

They head up together, and Sehun drops him off at the Copper Pine, waving from the car window as Junmyeon heads inside. He finds Yixing there, hands already wrapped around a mug, its twin sitting across from him at the empty seat. 

“Hi,” Junmyeon says excitedly, heart pounding as he sees yet another old friend, the emotions billowing up from the bottom of him. 

“Hey,” Yixing says, standing with a smile. They hug, and it feels like old times, like home. He sits down, and Junmyeon joins him. “I’ve heard all about the ordeal.” 

“Are you serious?” Junmyeon laughs. 

“Word travels fast within the various group chats,” Yixing says, and he looks Junmyeon up and down. “I’m a suspect?” 

“Baekhyun can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?” 

“Ah, that’s why we love him,” Yixing says. 

“You’re not a _suspect_ ,” Junmyeon says. “I’m sorry about all this. How sudden it is and everything.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Yixing says. “Since the wedding, it’s been hard getting time to come see you guys. This is nice. Catching up.” 

“It is,” Junmyeon says, a warm feeling blooming inside him. 

“So if you don’t think it’s me,” Yixing says, and he adjusts his sleeve as if needing something to do, “what do you want from all this?” 

“I honestly don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I guess I was just… you know, the more people tell me this, the more I believe them—I think I’m supposed to be getting closure.” 

“That’s so interesting,” Yixing says, taking a sip from his coffee and staring expectantly at Junmyeon. “You think you need closure?” 

“I didn’t think so, but what else is all this about, you know? What are they trying to make me do here?” 

Yixing nods as if it makes sense, and maybe it does, Junmyeon doesn’t know anymore. 

“Okay, cool,” Yixing says. “Autopsy. What was the downfall of our relationship? Where did it go wrong?” 

“W-Well, I think honestly—” 

“We had a fundamental difference of opinion in the direction of our future,” Yixing admits. “Namely, you wanted to stay close to your family, and so did I.” 

“And so did you,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“And instead of compromising,” Yixing shrugs, “we moved on.” 

It sounds so simple like this, boiled down and reduced to the stickiest part. Was it really just that? Was he so stubborn? 

“Did I hurt you a lot?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I think maybe we hurt each other a lot,” Yixing says. “But we’re still friends. We’re still close. Because I think, honestly, we knew we would find people who we worked better with. People we wouldn’t have to sacrifice the most important things for.” He smiles down at the cup. “We knew we would find who we were supposed to be with.” 

“I’m glad you found your someone,” Junmyeon says. 

Yixing wrinkles his nose with a smile. “I’m glad you did too.” Junmyeon scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so funny?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Like, after so many years of dating around, I’m perpetually single now. Maybe I’m cursed, you know. Maybe I’m supposed to die alone.” 

Yixing cocks his eyebrow without losing any of his grin. “Yeah? You are?” 

“I’m joking,” Junmyeon smiles. “But sometimes it feels that way. You know. Lonely or whatever.” 

Yixing smiles, nods. “I guess.” 

“What?” Junmyeon says. “You know something I don’t know?” 

“Everybody knows something you don’t know,” Yixing says, and in that moment, Junmyeon remembers what it was like to love him, to kiss him, to fall into his arms. 

It seems so far away now. They seem like completely different people now. Yixing, settled and happy and content. Is Junmyeon settled? Is he happy? Is he content? 

“Sometimes I wish it had worked out between us,” Junmyeon says. “Sometimes I wish I moved when you asked me to.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Yixing says. “Things have worked out the way they were meant to. Believe me. The way I see it now, if either of us had made that commitment when we weren’t ready to, it would have eaten away at us.” He shrugs his shoulders, taking another sip of his coffee. “We would have resented each other.” 

“You really think?” 

“I do,” Yixing says. “Not that things weren’t good with you, not that I wouldn’t have loved you, but—do you believe in fate?” 

“I honestly don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “Do you?” 

“Yeah,” Yixing says. “Maybe not with everything, but with things like this.” 

“Selective fate,” Junmyeon grins. 

“Yeah,” Yixing agrees. “Selective. I like that.” 

“So you think this is one of those things?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I know that it is. And I know where you’re headed.” 

“You can see the future now?” 

“Shut up,” Yixing laughs. “But, I mean, come on, Junmyeon. Have you still not figured it out yet?” 

“Figured what out?” Junmyeon asks. 

“ _Sehun_ ,” he stresses. 

“What about him?” 

“Who else could it be?” Yixing asks. “Who knows you better? Who loves you more than him?” 

Junmyeon’s stomach twists as if someone is wringing him out like a rag, and he shakes his head. “Believe me, I’ve considered this about a hundred times, but there’s literally no way it’s him.” 

“What’s your reasoning?” 

“M-My reasoning?” 

“You seem to think you’ve thought it through,” Yixing shrugs. “So I’m just curious.” 

“First, h-he always seems surprised and excited to see what I’ve got,” Junmyeon says. “Second, he seems a little jealous, you know… like, mad he didn’t get those things for me. Do you know what I mean?” 

“Sort of,” Yixing says. “Anything else?” 

“This is the most important part,” Junmyeon says. “If he loved me, if he really loved me, would this be the first time I was hearing about it?” Yixing smiles, and Junmyeon’s stomach drops. “Come on. What?” 

“I just think you underestimate his patience,” Yixing says, and he looks at his phone. “Okay, I gotta go, but… think about what I said, okay?” 

“O-Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he stands sharply, embracing Yixing again. “Are you and Taehyun coming to the party?” 

“Of course,” Yixing says, eyes shimmering. “Do you need us to bring anything?” 

“Just warm bodies,” Junmyeon smiles, and they say their goodbyes. 

He watches as Yixing leaves, and a tugging feeling pulls at him, tying him into knots. He’s happy, he’s happy they got to see each other, but there is a residual emotion, tea leaves left at the bottom of the cup. 

Jealousy, he realizes. He wants what Yixing has. 

Junmyeon texts Sehun that he’s ready to go, sipping what’s left of his coffee. He gets into the car, and Sehun hands him a sandwich wrapped in paper.

“Hey,” Sehun says happily. “Got you a lobster roll too.” 

Junmyeon eats on the way home, and Sehun talks about the new employee recommendation section that he’s setting up. Junmyeon can barely hear him, so much dripping along his insides that it feels like something crawling along his skin. 

When they get out of the car, he watches as Sehun unlocks the door and flips the sign. He stands there, staring at him. Overwhelmed with unplaceable thoughts. 

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks, and Junmyeon looks at his lips. His mouth. 

Had he ever lied to Junmyeon before? Was it a lie if he was simply withholding the truth? 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says. “I’m good.” 

They go back inside together, and Sehun immediately gets back to work, falling back into his habits like always. Junmyeon watches him, the way he moves, the way he talks to the couple that come in a little after they open back up. Junmyeon tries to keep his hands busy, trying to focus on what he’s doing, but all he can think about is Sehun. 

It feels like a heart attack, but Junmyeon’s never had a heart attack so really, he doesn't know what he’s feeling. All he knows is that he needs to get out of here. 

Panicked, he walks towards the door, only stopping when he realizes he has to tell Sehun he’s leaving before he does so. 

“I think I need to take a walk,” Junmyeon says. “I-Is that okay?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Sehun says. “I think I’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“It’s been, like, how many years? And you’ve never hired another employee,” Sehun says. “I’ve missed like, four days of work. I feel like maybe you can leave me alone for a couple minutes if you need to get some fresh air.” 

“R-Right,” Junmyeon says, and he heads out the door. 

He is walking down the street, wondering when it got so fucking cold when he hears the shop’s jingle bells. He turns, sees Sehun hanging out of the doorway with Junmyeon’s coat in his hand. 

“Oh sheesh,” Junmyeon says, and he hurries back. Sehun stares at him like he’s crazy. And God, maybe he is. 

“Be careful, okay?” Sehun says, and he pats Junmyeon on the shoulder before closing the door behind him. 

He walks aimlessly down the streets, turning and crossing roads as he pleases. What exactly is happening to him? Is he going crazy? The winter wind slapping him makes his cheeks hot, and sooner rather than later, he forces himself to turn back. 

Junmyeon returns to find the shop completely fine, and he realizes that his fretting over leaving Sehun alone was misused energy. He stands outside for a moment, observing Sehun through the window as he deals with one of the last customers of the day, a woman and a child. He gives them a charming smile, bending back to reach into their freebie basket. He hands the girl a rainbow pin, and Junmyeon knows that one well. 

In bright white letters, it says _Read more!_ He smiles at the thought. 

They’ve been doing this for a while now, the two of them. It’s like a well-oiled machine. Of course he can leave Sehun alone for an hour or two. He takes Sundays all on his own most weekends. What's going on with Junmyeon? 

Sehun turns as the woman and the girl walk towards the door, and he immediately brightens up when he sees Junmyeon. 

He is totally fucked, that he knows for sure.  
  


❄

  
  
They walk home that night, and Junmyeon feels all sorts of twisted. He doesn’t know why his anxiety flares whenever he thinks too hard about what’s going on, but as he shoves it down, he forces himself to be merry. He’s wasting the spirit of the holiday.

“Can we get junk food tomorrow?” Junmyeon asks. “And we’ll drink the champagne and just—”

“Chill out,” Sehun says. “Yeah. I think that’s nice.” He smiles. “We can stop to sit by the tree at the square for a while. I know how much you like that.” 

Junmyeon makes a soft, wounded sound, and Sehun laughs in response. 

“You’re nice,” Junmyeon says, and he hangs on Sehun’s arm. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, I know it’s been tough, but you’re really doing well here,” Sehun says. “I mean, I sincerely doubt I’d be able to talk to so many exes and still be sane.” 

“That’s the difference between us, though,” Junmyeon says. “I’m still friends with all my exes.” 

“Yeah. I think that’s fucking crazy.” 

Junmyeon punches the arm he’s holding, and Sehun grins. 

“What’s so crazy, huh?” Junmyeon asks. “Trying to be nice.” 

“Sometimes you’re too nice,” Sehun says. “That’s what I think.” 

“Always judging, this one.” 

“That’s me. Full of judgement.”

Junmyeon smiles to himself, and for a while, they walk just like that, Junmyeon holding Sehun’s arm. He thinks as they walk, thinks about what it means that he feels so comfortable doing something like this. Would he do this with anyone else? Was Yixing onto something that whole time? 

Has everyone been thinking this? Was Yixing just the first to put it into words? 

It’s hard for Junmyeon to consider Sehun as anything other than Sehun. He holds a special place in Junmyeon’s heart, a place that no one else is privy to, and it’s not… it’s not _love_. It’s something bigger than love. Sehun is the most important person to him, of course, and not everything has to be about romance. Some things are just life, he tells himself. 

Has it ever taken so much compartmentalization? Has anyone else demanded so many mental gymnastics? 

Maybe he’s been blind to it the whole time. Maybe he’s been rationalizing things for way too long. 

Maybe Sehun really is behind all of this. 

He reads the tag once he gets inside, the scripted _J_ curling at the bottom of the paper. 

_“I hope we can have the forever I dream about.”_

Yixing’s words stick in his head as he falls asleep that night, the covers clutched to his chin.  
  


❄

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finished this fic today. isnt that sweet? i hope you enjoy the rest ;~; i did my best!


	6. december 18th: the sixth day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon hears the knock at the door as soon as his foot touches the hardwood of the foyer, but he ignores it in favor of making a cup of crappy coffee.

Sehun brings the package inside that morning, a medium sized box stamped with an oxblood red curly-cue bow on top. 

“Delivery,” he says, setting it on Junmyeon’s counter. 

“Sorry,” Junmyeon says. “Woke up late.” 

“Nightmares again?” Sehun teases, and Junmyeon turns away quickly. 

“My sleep app gave me a 45 percent for quality,” Junmyeon says. “I failed _sleeping_.” 

“This time of year,” Sehun nods, and he shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “Very stressful.” 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Junmyeon says, and he studies Sehun. “What’s missing here?” 

Sehun frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“There’s something missing,” Junmyeon says, and he walks around Sehun as they move towards the foyer. “You’re… you’re different today. Worse.” 

Sehun scoffs. “Because I didn’t bring coffee?”

“That’s it!” Junmyeon says before squinting at Sehun. “You fucking… you suck.” 

“I’ll swing by after we open,” Sehun says. “Believe it or not, sometimes I run late too.” 

“Oh yeah?” Junmyeon says, raising his eyebrows as he bends down to fasten his laces. “Nightmares?” 

“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” Sehun says, and he kicks Junmyeon’s foot. “Let’s go.” 

“I’m hurrying,” Junmyeon says, and he begins to usher Sehun out of the house before he’s even got both arms in his coat. “Let’s go.” 

“Rushing?” 

“Need coffee,” Junmyeon frowns. “Need it.” 

“Getting a headache?” Sehun smiles. 

“Caffeine addiction is real,” Junmyeon says. “I’m gonna get the shakes.” 

“I’ll go as soon as we open,” Sehun says. “Worry not.” 

“Oh, I’m worried.” 

“I’ll make sure to get it tomorrow,” Sehun says. “Lord help us if we have another morning like this one.” He grins. “Who’s on the list today?” 

“Js,” Junmyeon says. 

“Who’s up first?” 

“More difficult one,” Junmyeon says. “Get it out of the way.” 

“ _Difficult_ , huh?” Sehun says. “I don’t think he would like you saying that about him.” 

“I don’t care what he likes,” Junmyeon says. “I just care about getting through the holiday season alive.” 

“You talk a big game for someone who cares so much.” 

“Enough out of you,” Junmyeon says. 

“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee?” Sehun teases. “I think I saw that on a t-shirt once. I think Garfield was on it.” 

“I’m in hell,” Junmyeon says. “I am with Beelzebub, the flames are eating me alive, and I am in hell.” 

“I do look good in red.” 

They entertain themselves for the rest of the walk, and after they’ve gotten settled in for the moment, Sehun heads back out for coffee. Junmyeon will slip money into his coat pocket later, he thinks, and he begins to click around on his computer. 

Navigating to his Gmail, Junmyeon sees the email from the distributor he’s been trying to work out a deal with. He looks behind him at the calendar, and he realizes he’s forgotten the contract at home. 

“S-Shit,” Junmyeon says hurriedly, and he gathers himself before running through the shop, flipping the sign back to _Closed_ as he takes off towards the house. 

He is out of breath and hot as fuck by the time he gets back home, and he locates the file on the counter underneath the gift box. _Asshole_ , Junmyeon thinks with a smile. He tears open the box since he’s around, and since honestly, if he were to sprint back to the shop immediately he thinks he’d probably pop a blood vessel in his eye or something. 

Inside the box is a series of bath products, salts and lotions and various other body care items, and at the bottom is a plush white robe with his initial monogrammed on the chest. His heart pulls in his chest as he lets his eyes wander over the note. 

_“I want to share so much with you, things I’ve never shared with anyone else.”_

The second J stares back at him, and Junmyeon sighs. He’s gotta get back. 

He practically collides with Sehun in the back office once he’s back, and Sehun grabs him by the arm, completely alarmed.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing. Where were you?” 

“No time to stop for a coat.” 

“I came back with coffee, and you were gone,” Sehun says, and he rubs Junmyeon to warm him up. “Real nice.” 

“I ran,” Junmyeon says, hand braced on the desk. “Sorry.” 

“What’d you run for?” 

Junmyeon lifts the folder in his hand, and Sehun makes a noise of acknowledgment. 

“Well, here,” Sehun says, and he pushes the paper cup into Junmyeon’s hand. “Your reward for completing your marathon.” 

“God, it smells so good,” Junmyeon whines. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Sehun laughs, and he heads back out into the shop proper. 

Junmyeon quickly scans the signed contract and forwards it, feeling relief only once he’s got the confirmation that it was received. He takes it easy for the rest of the morning, sipping his coffee and shooting Jongdae a text about meeting up. 

Jongdae replies later, and Junmyeon wonders why his heart doesn’t react the way it used to. Has he really and truly moved on? He kind of thought he’d always carry some residual romantic love for Jongdae, and it surprises him that he’s not completely disappointed when Jongdae says they’ll have to make do with a phone call. 

It comes later in the day, much later, and Junmyeon sequesters himself back in his office, idly drawing spirals on a piece of scrap paper as he listens. 

“Hi,” Jongdae says. “Sorry, I wanted to call you earlier, but—God, work has been so stressful lately.” 

“Ah, I understand,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t worry about it, I know how it can be.” 

“When did we get so old?” Jongdae wonders, and Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Wish I knew,” Junmyeon says. “Wish I knew.” 

“Word on the street is that _you_ have a secret Christmas admirer,” Jongdae says happily. “Is it everything your little heart desired?” 

“Believe it or not, it’s giving me a stomach ulcer,” Junmyeon laughs. 

“What? Why?” Jongdae says, sounding genuinely surprised. “I would have thought, you know, this would be your _thing_.” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“What’s so complicated?” Jongdae asks. “You get presents, you get a new boyfriend at the end.” 

“This is the complicated part,” Junmyeon says. 

“Reminiscing with an old friend?” 

That, the _old friend_ , sends Junmyeon reeling. That’s what they are now to each other. Old friends. More surprising to him is that it doesn’t feel like he’s been rejected. It feels… natural. 

“I guess I always kind of thought, you know, you and me...,” Junmyeon says, trailing off. 

“And yet you and Chanyeol were the ones who kept breaking up and making up,” Jongdae says. 

“Don’t remind me,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’m invested now,” Jongdae says. “You still have feelings for me?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Junmyeon says. “You know, hearing your voice… it used to make me crazy, and now—”

“Don’t break my heart.” 

“You still have feelings for me?” Junmyeon wonders. “Is it you, sending all these gifts?” 

“You know it isn’t,” Jongdae says. “You know I don’t.” 

“I don’t know anything for fact anymore,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I care about you, definitely,” Jongdae says. “But we’ve moved on. We’re in different areas now.” 

“And you think… that’s for the best?” 

“I know it is,” Jongdae says, and he sounds wistful all of a sudden. “You remember last Christmas?” 

“I remember.” 

“I was just sitting on the couch, watching you entertain,” Jongdae says. “You had this big glass of red wine, like one of those novelty glasses? The ones you can fit a whole bottle in?” 

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says. 

“You looked so happy,” Jongdae says. “And I didn’t feel jealous because I wished you were happy with me. Or upset that you were happy without me. I just felt… glad.” 

Junmyeon shuts his eyes. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jongdae says. “I’m proud of the both of us.” 

“God, you’re so nice. Why’d we break up?” 

“I think we had an argument over another boy, if you would believe that,” Jongdae says, and he sounds so happy. Junmyeon wishes he could see his face, give him a hug. 

“Thank you for this,” Junmyeon says. “Truly, I—I can’t tell you how appreciative I am.” 

“Keep the bar well stocked for the party,” Jongdae says. “Show your appreciation with hors d'oeuvres.” 

“I’ll jot that down,” Junmyeon smiles. “Thanks again. See you soon.” 

“See you soon,” Jongdae says, and the call ends just like that. Peacefully.  
  


❄

They stop at House of Pizza, and they share one of the house specialties, with pepperoni, meatballs, sausage, mushrooms, onions, and peppers. They sit at the little table, practically bumping up against one another as they eat, and they get an order of fries to go, along with some baklava in a white paper box tied with red string.

“It’ll be good with the champagne,” Junmyeon assures him. 

“Whatever you say,” Sehun smiles, and he carries their boxes as they walk towards the square. 

They sit in the park on a lonely little bench together, staring up at the tree. It was lit on the second of the month, and every time Junmyeon passes it now, he feels a thrill of joy run through him. He loves the lights. This time of the year is his favorite by far. 

“You want some of these?” Sehun asks, and he opens the little clamshell container of fries, offering Junmyeon first dibs. 

“God, yes,” Junmyeon says, and he grabs a handful, all but stuffing them into his mouth. 

“Jeez,” Sehun laughs. “Slow down.” 

“Tough week,” Junmyeon reminds him. “Very tough.” 

“Ah, it’s over now. Besides, only a couple more boyfriends to get through,” Sehun says, and when Junmyeon looks over at him, he’s smiling. “Right?” 

“Right,” Junmyeon says. “After that, I dunno.” 

“Yeah, I wonder what will happen,” Sehun says. 

“Grand reveal?” 

Sehun shrugs, snagging a couple fries as they stare up at the tree. “Not very romantic to give it all away on the _ninth_ day of Christmas.” 

Junmyeon snorts, grabs another fry. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’d you get today, by the way?” Sehun asks. “I didn’t see.” 

“Nothing important,” Junmyeon says. “Bath stuff.” 

“Fancy bath stuff?” 

“Fancy bath stuff,” Junmyeon says. “Some salts and soaps and lotions. This really nice robe.” 

“Ah,” Sehun says, and he looks away towards a car speeding by. “Very romantic.” 

“I guess so,” Junmyeon says. “I don’t know. It all feels a bit… you know, detached.” 

“Because it’s so expensive?” 

“I guess,” Junmyeon says. “I would be thrilled to get one of these things, but all of them combined? I mean, who likes me that much, you know?” 

Sehun laughs. “Come on.” 

“What?” 

“Everyone loves you,” Sehun says. 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. 

“You’ve had seven boyfriends in the same social group, and we’re all still friends,” Sehun says flatly. “If that’s not lovable, I don’t know what is.” 

“You’re making me sound like a harlot.” 

“If the scarlet letter fits, wear it,” Sehun smiles. “I mean, who was it who said that he wanted to date Kyungsoo _to get the complete set_.” 

“Okay, they were attached at the hip, and I thought it was funny!” 

“Very funny,” Sehun agrees. “Laugh of the century.” 

“You’re being sarcastic.” 

“What gave it away?” 

Junmyeon bumps Sehun with his shoulder as they make their way through the rest of the fries. 

“I’m glad we did this,” Junmyeon says. “I know we hang out everyday and everything, but sometimes it’s nice to do something indulgent.” 

“Is it indulgent to eat french fries by the Christmas tree?” 

“I think so,” Junmyeon says, and he leans his head on Sehun’s shoulder. “Doesn’t this feel indulgent?” 

Sehun takes a beat to respond, but Junmyeon doesn’t move. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

They head back home afterwards, the night stretching long before them. Sehun carries their garbage and the leftover pizza, and Junmyeon carries the box of baklava. 

Sehun tosses the trash in the garbage can as Junmyeon unlocks, and he flips on the light for Sehun as he follows up. 

“Let’s go,” Sehun encourages, nudging Junmyeon inside with a smile. “I’ll put this in the fridge.” 

“Kay,” Junmyeon says, and they unsheathe from their coats and scarves. “I’m getting a lot of use out of this scarf. Like, it is my most worn item this winter, I think.” 

“Same,” Sehun smiles, and he kicks off his shoes. “Thank God for our _Gift of the Magi_ moment.” 

“No, come on,” Junmyeon laughs, “ _Gift of the Magi_ would have been you got me gloves, but I cut off my hands to, like, pay for you to have a scarf or something.” 

“Why would anyone pay for your hands?” 

“These hands?” Junmyeon asks, moving them back and forth like a hand model. “These are great hands.” 

“You’re so dumb,” Sehun laughs, and they move through the house together comfortably, like Sehun is meant to be here. 

Junmyeon’s heart does a little flip inside him as he watches Sehun easily navigate things like he lives here. Would it be nice, Junmyeon wonders, if Sehun moved in? It would save a lot of time for Sehun, he thinks. He would only have to wake up a few minutes early to get to Last Drop if he wanted to get the coffee. 

Sehun gestures with the bottle of champagne, and it shakes Junmyeon from his reverie. 

“You okay?” Sehun smiles. “If you’re tired—”

“No, I’m good,” Junmyeon says, and he nods towards the cabinet. “Get the glasses.” 

Junmyeon tears the foil on the bottle of champagne, and he smiles at Sehun. Sehun nods towards the bottle like _Go on_ , so Junmyeon works the cage off, untwisting and untwisting, his thumb under the ridge of the cork. 

“What, you’re just gonna shoot it anywhere?” Sehun wonders, and he puts his hands over the cork as if to block it. 

Junmyeon looks at Sehun’s fingers as he gingerly thumbs the cork out, a soft _pop_ echoing in the palm of Sehun’s hand. 

“See?” Sehun says. “Safer that way.” 

It feels distinctly unsafe, being here with Sehun, uncorking champagne when he’s feeling so loose and good. He can imagine them falling to the couch, heads dizzy with bubbles, their bodies hot against one another. 

“How was Jongdae?” Sehun asks softly, and he holds the flute as Junmyeon pours them full. 

“You know,” Junmyeon says. “He was.” 

“That’s… good?” 

“It was good,” Junmyeon says, and then before he can stop himself, he adds, “He was the person I was most scared of.” 

“ _Scared of_?” Sehun scoffs, switching the full glass for the empty and waiting. 

“Meeting back up with,” Junmyeon says, and he tilts the bottle, watches the bubbles rise. “You know. Just… I wondered.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “I probably never would have said it, but I always kinda thought… you know, what if?” 

“That’s something,” Sehun says. 

“What?” Junmyeon laughs, and he sets the bottle down. 

“Nothing, I just… I always kinda thought the same thing,” Sehun says. “Things always seemed so good between the two of you, then that fight, and then one day—nothing.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he blinks, trying to clear his head. “I guess I just… you know, I romanticized a lot of aspects of our relationship, and now that things are different, now that I’ve got distance, I thought—I like things the way they are now. I don’t have to go back.” 

Sehun aims a smile to the tiles underfoot, and Junmyeon finds himself smiling too. 

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Sehun finally says, and he grabs one of the glasses of champagne, passing it to Junmyeon. “I’m glad, you know, at least one good thing is coming out of all this. You get a little closure.” 

“Plus the gifts aren’t terrible,” Junmyeon smiles. “Should we toast?” 

“What should we toast to?” 

If you know where to look, there is always a little bit of magic in the kitchen at midnight, and while he can’t explain it, he can see it there between them, billowing out with precious golden light. 

“To the future?” Junmyeon suggests softly. 

Sehun lets a small smile spread across his lips as he tips his glass against Junmyeon’s, the song ringing out like church bells. 

Barefoot, they drink in Junmyeon’s quiet kitchen, and Junmyeon stares at Sehun over the glass. He watches Sehun’s throat move as he sips, as they make effervescent promises, pledges over sparkling wine. It is strange, he thinks, and in any other circumstance, he would feel a bit anxious over so much silence. Here, with Sehun—he can only feel joy. 

“Do you wanna sit?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Let’s get another glass,” Sehun says, and he takes Junmyeon’s flute, their fingers brushing. If it was darker, Junmyeon thinks he would be able to see the static flashing between them. 

Once both glasses have been poured full again, Junmyeon leads them to the living room. He sits, legs folded up underneath him, and he waits for Sehun to follow. He stands there, staring down at Junmyeon. 

He doesn’t move any further than that, though. 

It is a furiously tense moment, the type of thing that exists only in gripped fists. Junmyeon’s mouth falls open as he looks at Sehun looking at him, and his stomach turns with something unfamiliar. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “Is everything all right?” 

“I think I should head out,” Sehun says. 

“B-But you just said you wanted another glass.” 

“You have to be up early tomorrow,” Sehun says, and a blush streaks high on his face, swimming up towards his temples. “Sorry, I only just remembered, I—”

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon says. “Sorry, I just thought—” 

“No, no,” Sehun says, and he doesn’t move, looking down at Junmyeon. “No, I… it’s my fault.” 

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon repeats. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I made you waste this,” Sehun says. 

“I’m glad we opened it,” Junmyeon smiles. “S-Should I walk you out?” 

“Stay there,” Sehun encourages. “You look comfortable.” 

“Mm,” Junmyeon says, and he lays his head against the back of the couch with a smile as the alcohol begins to work. “I am comfortable.” 

Sehun turns, and Junmyeon watches him, the long line of his body. The breadth of his shoulders. Junmyeon has touched him before, hands along the muscle and bone, but what would it feel like now? Now, when he feels all tied up and desperate for something he never thought he was desperate for? 

“Make sure you drink some water if you drink anymore,” Sehun encourages, and he grabs his coat from the foyer. He turns, gives Junmyeon a small smile. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“I’ll text you,” Junmyeon says, and he hangs his chin over the back of the couch as Sehun nods. 

Without another word, he leaves, the door closed behind him with a definitive _thunk_. Junmyeon sighs, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but it was probably for the best that Sehun left. No good decisions have ever been made on an alcohol-drenched Friday night, especially not one so decorated with twinkle lights. 

It was undeniably romantic, he thinks, the moment that they shared together. Maybe Sehun knew how he felt? Maybe Sehun saw the way Junmyeon was looking at him and felt uncomfortable. 

Junmyeon worries at his lip as he sits there, absently sipping at his champagne as he stares towards the hall, wondering what might have happened if Sehun had stayed. 

It feels like they are building towards something, a time when everything crashes together, history and future and all the in-betweens. Junmyeon can’t wait now. He thinks it will be good, no matter what.  
  


❄

He drinks what’s left of the champagne with a smile on his face, a hand on the nape of his neck as he feels himself go warm.

He gets a text a little while later. 

_Save me a piece of the baklava_ , Sehun writes, and Junmyeon goes to sleep that evening wondering why he’s alone in his bed.


	7. december 19th: the seventh day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon opens his eyes and immediately regrets it. He might have drank too much, might have eaten too much grease, might have been a bit too loose with the way he acted around Sehun.

What exactly was he thinking? Has it just been too long since he got laid that he’s started day-dreaming about the person closest to him? He really needs to start jerking off on a regular basis again, because _Sehun_? His Sehun? Is he out of his fucking mind? 

Still, he isn’t blind... and he’s only human. Sehun is undoubtedly beautiful, tall and handsome and fit, and… they spend so much time around each other. It’s just because he’s stir-crazy, right? These feelings storming around him, clouding his judgment and pouring down thunderous, fluttering rain in his stomach… it’s just because of the season, isn’t it? Because of the gifts and the romance and the feelings long lost that he’s been rediscovering? 

Junmyeon flops over to the side, and he absently searches the bed for his phone. After scrolling aimlessly for a couple minutes, squinting through a headache, a text buzzes in his hand. 

_Dinner tonight? I figured you’ve got a date in the afternoon after work, and who knows how long that could take_ , Sehun writes, and Junmyeon could wring his neck. 

_not a date!_ , Junmyeon writes back quickly, sitting up sharply. _But yeah, dinner sounds good._

_My place or yours?_ , Sehun answers, and Junmyeon’s heart leaps into his mouth. 

It sounds so loaded, so full of possibility. 

_Whatever works best_ , Junmyeon says. 

_My place okay?_ , Sehun asks. _I’ll cook._

_Sounds good_ , Junmyeon writes back, and he flops back onto his bed, pulling the covers up over his eyes, squeezing the comforter to his face. 

Eventually, the time comes to put the night before behind him if he has any plans on salvaging what’s left of their friendship. Shuffling around, he gathers his clothes for the day, gets his shower and puts his best foot forward as he pours his coffee, gathering the gift from the step. 

It is a relatively large box, so he carries it up, his puzzle book and a Gatorade stacked on top of it, and he does his crossword as he regains the use of his rehydrating brain.  
  


❄

He lazes around the shop for the better part of the day, butterflies in his stomach whenever he gets a flash of the night before. The way he stared or the way he implied… what a fucking mess. He tries to keep himself busy without exerting much energy, and when he calls Jongin, it sounds like Jongin was expecting the phone to ring.

“I’m on my way,” Jongin says. “Thought we could get coffee and sit by the tree in the square.” 

“It’s only afternoon,” Junmyeon says. “It won’t be all lit up yet.” 

“That’s okay,” Jongin says. “I gotta be home for dinner anyway.” 

Junmyeon nods along as he listens to the sound of the road. 

“Okay,” Jongin says. “Be there in, uh, approximately… I dunno, one hour? Is that long enough for you to get ready?” 

“I’m ready already,” Junmyeon says. “I’m at the shop.” 

“The Junmyeon I once knew didn’t get out of bed until noon,” Jongin says.

“That was when I was hungover.” 

“Those were the days,” Jongin says wistfully. “See you soon.” 

They disconnect the call, and Junmyeon closes the shop for the day. He heads home, hands in his pockets. Once inside, he hurries upstairs to defrost, fiddling with his hands as he stares at the box. He should just open it already. There’s no use waiting. Besides, maybe there’s something inside that could help him, he doesn’t know, reach enlightenment or something. 

He sits, scooting forward on the bed, and he gathers the gift into his lap. He tears the gold paper very carefully for some reason, unfolding it like he intends to keep it. Inside, there is a fluffy white comforter, cold to the touch. Junmyeon moans as he unfolds it, and it is luxurious and soft, plush and wonderful. He unfolds it over his legs, kicking his feet up until it is tucked underneath him. 

He takes the tag, flipping it open to read. 

_”I want to do everything I can to keep you safe, happy, healthy, and away from harm of all kinds.”_

_K_

He sighs, staring out into the room. What happens tomorrow? The day after tomorrow? Who will he meet then? What initials might the letters be signed with then?  
  


❄

He goes to the park at the specified time, and he waits on the same bench as the night before. He shakes his head as if to clear the daze away, and just as he does so, Jongin appears before him.

“Dizzy?” he asks with a grin.

“No, shut up,” Junmyeon says, and he gets to his feet, throwing Jongin into a hug. “Thank you so much for coming.” 

“Please, I was happy to get the call,” he says, and they sit, thigh to thigh. 

“Drive okay?” 

“Yeah, it was good.” 

“Good,” Junmyeon says, and there is a beat of quiet. 

“I’m so glad we’re getting to see each other again,” Jongin smiles. “Christmas party notwithstanding.” 

“So you’re a definite yes?” Junmyeon asks. “For sure?”

“Of course,” Jongin says and he bumps his shoulder into Junmyeon as they sit there in the park. “He wanted to come today, actually.” 

“Seriously?” 

“What did you expect?” Jongin laughs. “He wanted in on the action.” 

“He’s tomorrow.” 

“No shit, really?” Jongin says. “I thought they were joking about all that stuff.” 

“No, it’s, uh, it’s very real,” Junmyeon says. “Unfortunately.” 

“What’s unfortunate about it?” Jongin asks. “Isn’t it, like, wildly romantic?” 

“I’m meeting with my ex-boyfriends, interrogating them about whether or not they sent me extravagant gifts in an attempt to get back together with me,” Junmyeon says. “So romantic.” 

“Well, you know me and Kyungsoo,” Jongin shrugs, and he jams cold hands in his pockets. “So it wasn’t us. Why bother meeting up?” 

“I guess it’s to, you know, catch up.” Junmyeon moves his shoulders too. “Put things behind me.” 

“So this is like free therapy,” Jongin says. 

“I guess.” 

“Okay, sounds good,” Jongin says. “Do you wanna talk about anything in particular?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “Our relationship—”

“It was nice while it lasted,” Jongin says, “but it didn’t last very long.” 

“No,” Junmyeon agrees. “Not long at all.” 

“Sex was good, though,” Jongin notes. 

“It was.” 

“Your head was always somewhere else,” Jongin says. 

“You’re one to talk,” Junmyeon snorts. 

“Hey, I’m not the one who jumped on his dick as soon as we broke up,” Jongin says. “Very hurtful by the way.” 

“I was meaner then,” Junmyeon says, and he looks over at Jongin. “Thank you for forgiving me.” 

“There was nothing to forgive,” Jongin says. “You got there first, fair and square.” He smiles, but it doesn’t seem to be aimed at Junmyeon or even anything in particular. It is a smile that transcends time and space, a secret, a promise. “I’m glad everything worked out the way it did.” 

“You guys are sick.” 

“Sick in love,” Jongin says. “And probably because of you.” 

“You think?” 

“If you hadn’t immediately went out with him, I don’t think I would have realized that I loved him the way I did,” Jongin says. “Sometimes you just need that gut reaction. That feeling in your stomach that’s like _Fuck, why not me?_ ” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Yeah, I understand.” 

“How about you?” Jongin says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your love life,” Jongin says. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?” 

Junmyeon bites his lip, but figures, what the hell, he’s got nothing to lose. 

“I thought for a second, like, maybe it was Sehun,” Junmyeon says. “Maybe.” 

“Ah.” 

Junmyeon looks at him sharply. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Jongin says. 

“No, come on,” Junmyeon says. “Tell me.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Jongin says. “I just said _Ah._ ” 

“There’s something implied in that syllable.”

“Maybe you’re reading too much into it,” Jongin suggests. 

“Or maybe you’re not giving me everything you’ve got,” Junmyeon says. 

Jongin laughs. “You’re so stubborn.” 

“This is important to me,” Junmyeon says. “Everyone keeps saying, keeps implying, you know, that they know something I don’t know.” 

“Well, Occam’s razor,” Jongin says, and he turns to face Junmyeon. “What’s the simplest explanation of all this?” 

“Sehun likes me,” Junmyeon says suddenly. 

“Likes? Or loves?” 

“S-Stop,” Junmyeon says. “This is insane.” 

“Is it that crazy? I mean, you got there pretty easily,” Jongin says. “I didn’t even have to nudge you.” 

“Everyone’s been nudging me.” 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“So what do you think about it?” Jongin says. “About Sehun.” 

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says, and the frustration builds like a wave. “I don’t know, I mean, what am I supposed to feel? He’s my best friend. I’ve known him for a decade now, a-and this is coming out now?” 

“Do you think this is his way of telling you?” 

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like him at all.” 

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” Jongin says, “because before this, you hadn’t even considered that he had feelings for you.” 

“W-Well, why would I? He’s never given me literally even _one_ indication of him maybe liking me.” 

“He moved to your hometown,” Jongin says. “He bought a house down the block from your house. He offered to help you at the shop when you couldn’t even afford to pay him a salary.” 

“W-Well, yeah, but he’s—”

“Your friend,” Jongin nods. “I know. But, I mean, all things considered, Sehun is a good guy and all, but would he sacrifice like that for Chanyeol? For Minseok? For me?” Jongin shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“He’s the best person I know,” Junmyeon says, rising to Sehun’s defense without a second thought. “Seriously, he’s… he’s selfless and smart, and he’s funny and kind a-and… he _thinks_ about all of us, you know. He thinks so much about us. About his friends. About how to help. Shoulder more burden. A-And honest to God, I think he would do the same for any of you. No matter what.” He breathes out sharply, watching the way the air moves. “For any of us.” 

Jongin smiles. “You really feel that way about him?” 

“It’s just a fact,” Junmyeon says flatly. “I don’t get any special treatment.” He gives Jongin a side eye. “The suggestion that he favors me, does things for me just because he wants to get in my pants—” 

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jongin says, a handsome smile strung across his face, bright like Christmas lights. “I didn’t say _that_.” He slings an arm around Junmyeon’s neck as they sit there. “You think a lot about him getting in your pants, hm? Hm?” 

“Shut _up_ , oh my God,” Junmyeon says, but he lets Jongin hug him close, breathing out once he’s settling in the embrace. “When did things get so crazy?” 

“When you were born, I imagine.” 

Junmyeon punches him in the arm as he hugs him close. 

“You really think he likes me?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I think he would be crazy not to,” Jongin says. “You’re everything he wants.” 

Junmyeon’s heart flips inside him as the clouds cover them in shade. It is suddenly very cold, and Junmyeon shivers against Jongin. 

“We should get going,” Jongin says. “Before you get frostbite.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, but he takes Jongin’s hand when they stand. “Thanks for coming all the way out here.” 

“Please,” Jongin says, “you guys hold us all together. Grounding energy.” 

“You think?” 

“I know,” Jongin says. “You think we’d all still be as close as we are if it weren’t for things like the Christmas party? If we didn’t have you two down here holding down the fort?” Jongin rubs his hands along Junmyeon’s biceps to warm him up. “This feels like home to all of us because you guys are here. Like it’s someplace we can always come back to.” 

“You can,” Junmyeon says. “We’re always happy to see you.” 

Jongin goes quiet, pulling Junmyeon into another warm hug. 

“See, doesn’t it just _sound_ like you and Sehun are the old married couple?” Jongin says, and a bolt of nervous energy zips through Junmyeon quicker than anything. 

Is that how everyone feels about them? More important than that, though—is that how _he_ feels about them?  
  


❄

It begins to snow as he walks to Sehun’s in the early evening, and he stands on the porch for a moment, observing the minimal decorations to the home. It’s been a while since he came by, and as expected, Sehun has not gone even close to as big as he should have done for the outside. Junmyeon holds out hope for the interior.

He rings the doorbell, and Sehun appears a moment later with an apron wrapped around his waist looking completely frazzled, a pasta fork in his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Nothing! Why do you assume something’s wrong?” Sehun asks, hand on his hip. 

“Because you look like something’s gone horribly wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong, everything is great,” Sehun says. “Come in. You’re letting the snow in.” 

Junmyeon brushes the melting snowflakes out of his hair as he takes off his coat and his shoes, and predictably, Sehun doesn’t have enough decorations up in his house, only a few hand-me-downs from Junmyeon that were getting too old to keep up. 

Junmyeon tuts. 

“What, are you judging me now?” 

“We should go to HomeGoods after Christmas,” Junmyeon says. “Get you some nice decorations.” 

“I have nice decorations,” Sehun says, and he leads them back into the kitchen. “They were your decorations once.” 

“I know,” Junmyeon says. “Precisely why we need to get you some of your own.”

“I’m perfectly happy with my station in life,” Sehun says, and when they walk into the kitchen, Junmyeon is kind of fucking impressed. “What?” 

“N-No, it just… it smells really good in here.” 

“I can cook,” Sehun assures him. 

“I see this now.” 

“Did you think you were gonna have to call for a pizza?” Sehun laughs. 

“I thought one of us might have to,” Junmyeon says, and he approaches the stove. “What’s for dinner? I smell so many smells.” 

“Chicken parm is in the oven, I’ve got a little linguine with clams here. Salad is in the fridge. And garlic bread. Obviously,” he finishes. 

Sehun gives the pan with the linguine a shake, and all of a sudden, Junmyeon is hit with the scents of lemon, butter, chili… he could die. 

“What’s all this for?” Junmyeon asks. “It looks, like, so good.” 

Sehun shrugs. “I dunno. Just felt like cooking.” He gestures back towards the fridge. “You wanna get the wine?” 

His throat goes dry at the suggestion. 

“I think probably I should stay sober tonight,” he says shamefully. 

“Brita’s in there too,” Sehun says. “Get me a glass as well?” 

And so they work in tandem, Sehun working by the stove and Junmyeon helping to set the table, and by the end of it, Junmyeon sits down and stares at the dinner before him thinking _This is romantic, isn’t it?_

“What?” Sehun laughs. “You look grossed out.” 

“No, I-I’m not grossed out,” Junmyeon says. “Just thinking of something else, I guess.” 

“Well, that’s good at least,” and Sehun digs into his salad, the vinaigrette drizzled over, shining amber. “If you hated it, I think I would die.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. “You made it. That’s… that’s so nice.” 

“I just wanted you to, you know, be able to relax,” Sehun says. 

“I’m super cool, super relaxed,” Junmyeon says. 

“The salad is working, then.” 

Junmyeon kicks him underneath the table, and Sehun laughs. 

“How’d it go with Jongin by the way?” Sehun asks. 

“Good,” Junmyeon says. “Uh… just good.” 

“Just good,” Sehun nods. “Well, that’s just good.” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “It was good, it was just like… you know, I really didn’t have anything to put to bed with him. We dated for such a short period of time, it felt like—” 

“Like you were talking less about your relationship and more about the person behind all this?” Sehun smiles. 

“W—Yeah,” Junmyeon says frowning. “How did you know?” 

“You only really get uncomfortable only when we’re talking about the hypothetical sender,” Sehun says, and he points with a cherry tomato on his fork. “So, you know.” He circles the tomato in the air. “I assumed.” 

“I think… well, we’ll see,” Junmyeon says. “That’s all I can say, you know? We’ll see. Because if they don’t wanna come forward, if they don’t wanna stick their necks out and be vulnerable, then, well… what else can I do?” 

“Nothing, really,” Sehun says, and he stuffs his mouth full of salad. “Nothing at all. Coward.” 

Junmyeon snorts.

“Exactly. So I’ll continue to eat my salad, talk to my ex-boyfriends,” Junmyeon says, and he takes a sip of water. “I mean, honestly… if anything, it’s ensuring a very smooth and non-dramatic Christmas party.” 

“Remember that one year,” Sehun reminisces. 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“That girl, the girl Baekhyun was dating,” Sehun says with a smile. “She just… vanished.” 

“This is why you don’t bring people you meet at _hostels_ to family parties,” Junmyeon says. “We had to organize a mini-search party for this poor girl because she was drunk and alone and in a town she'd never been to before. We found her by the water! She didn’t have any shoes! I had to give her mine!” 

“He’s so friendly,” Sehun says, tilting his head to the side like _Well…_ “Sometimes to his detriment.” 

“I almost lost a toe,” Junmyeon reminds him. “Sometimes it’s to my detriment too.” 

Sehun laughs, and there is easy conversation for the rest of the meal. The pasta is cooked perfectly to Junmyeon’s liking, al dente and salty and bright with the squeeze of lemon and the pinch of heat. The clams are succulent and taste of the sea, and he’s almost stuffed by the time they dig into the chicken. It is crunchy on the outside, moist and tender on the inside, and the sauce… 

“Did you make this yourself?” Junmyeon asks. “Like all of it?” 

“All of it,” Sehun says proudly. “A YouTube video showed me how to do the sauce. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be, honestly.” 

“Thank you for this,” Junmyeon says, wrinkling his brow. He feels butter soft, like if you touched him, he’d cave in like nothing. “I… I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Oh, be quiet,” Sehun says, and he takes their plates when they’re finished, washes them quickly in the sink. 

“I’ll wash the rest of the dishes,” Junmyeon suggests. 

“Let ‘em soak,” Sehun says. “I’ll walk you home.” 

“O-Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he grabs his coat without another word. 

He spends the whole walk home wanting to say something, ask something, ask Sehun _Why didn’t we ever date?_

_Why do we work so well together?_

_Did you ever get jealous when I dated?_

_Why haven’t I ever seen you with anyone since college?_

_Don’t you get lonely too?_

In the end, Junmyeon says nothing, hoping that he can sort out his emotions quickly, because they’re reaching the fever pitch, the eruption point, the lava bubbling under the surface.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this is moving slow sry about that but also i think its worth it in the end and if it isnt u can tar and feather me.... also also u all think ur so friggin smart... like u got everything figured out .... have u even accounted for thE PRESTIGE? (i jest.... or do i???)


	8. december 20th: the eighth day

  
  


❄

There is nothing like the Sunday morning before Christmas, and while the thought of the gifts does make him nervous, he can’t act like it is all bad. He has always loved a good present, someone to give him a run for his money, and these things feel tailored to him. Made just for him.

Christmas is about giving but it’s also about receiving with grace, and Junmyeon thinks that he could do a little better on that _grace_ part. He just gets so in his own head, so wrapped up in… in himself. Isn’t that humanity? Forgetting you’re a part of something big? Remembering it slowly and finding great joy in it? 

Junmyeon gets out of bed that morning, and as he pads downstairs to get a cup of coffee, he notices that he already has a text from his final ghost of Christmas past. 

_Would it be okay if I come over and cook breakfast?,_ Kyungsoo writes very simply. _Jongin is Christmas shopping in town._

Then, in a separate message, _Do you like Eggs Benedict?_

Junmyeon smiles at the message, quick in his reply. 

_That would be great. I just have to get a quick shower,_ Junmyeon writes, and then, tacked on at the end, _I do like Eggs Benedict, but you don’t have to do all that. I’m fine with anything._

Junmyeon hurriedly drinks his coffee, and he heads back upstairs. There’s something special about being cooked for. He thinks that’s a love language all its own. 

He jumps in the shower, scrubbing through his hair and washing himself clean. Idly, he thinks of Sehun, the night before, the night before that too. There’s been something so strange in the air, something like magic and mystery, but Sehun—he hasn’t been acting out of the ordinary at all. He is unchanging and illuminating like the sun and the moon and the stars, he’s steady like the earth and clever like the river, and Junmyeon thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s been blind for a very long time. 

He didn’t want anyone else here with him. He didn’t want anyone else. 

Junmyeon is ruffling his hair with the towel by the time he heads downstairs to answer the door, and Kyungsoo has a paper bag of groceries in one hand, a small silver gold box in the other, the gift wrapped in maroon ribbon. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Kyungsoo says, shaking the little box. “This wasn’t me. I saw something some kid as I pulled up, I think." 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, and he pulls him inside. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Junmyeon says, gesturing to the groceries. 

“Jongin only lets me cook every other night,” Kyungsoo says, stepping in and closing the door behind him. “Monday, Wednesday, Friday. That’s my shift.” 

“And that just kills you?” 

“He experiments on Tuesday and Thursday,” Kyungsoo says. “Keeps things interesting, yes. Also sometimes keeps them inedible.” 

Junmyeon laughs as he brings him through to the kitchen. Kyungsoo sets the bag down on the counter next to the gift, and he immediately begins to work. Junmyeon sits on the stool, chin in his hands. 

“So catch me up to speed,” Kyungsoo says, tossing butter into one of Junmyeon’s saucepans. “What’s going on?” 

“You haven’t been keeping up?” 

“Believe it or not, I have,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s all anyone is talking about.” 

Junmyeon feels a little heat rise to his cheeks. “Then—”

“I would just love to hear it from your perspective,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Why does this feel like the beginning of a therapy session?” 

“Maybe it is,” Kyungsoo smiles, and he cracks his eggs, beating them together. “Would you like some therapizing?” 

“Honestly, that’s all I feel like I’ve been doing this past week,” Junmyeon sighs. “It’s all just… you know, immersion therapy.” 

“Isn’t that for getting over phobias?” Kyungsoo asks, and he whirls around, grabbing Junmyeon’s salt and pepper mills, cracking them over the bowl. 

“I guess so.” 

“So you’re scared of your exes?” Kyungsoo teases. “Scared of me?” 

“ _No_ , I’m just—sometimes I feel like I got stuck, you know?” Kyungsoo raises his brows in response. “L-Like once I had come back home, once I stopped traveling, stopped dating whatever moved—no offense.” 

“None taken,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t move much, but you still managed to date me.” 

Junmyeon snorts. “I just mean… once I stopped moving, I never got started again. I stopped moving. I settled.” 

“Is that so terrible?” 

“Isn’t it?” Junmyeon asks. “Isn’t it terrible to settle?” 

“Do you really feel like you settled?” 

“I-I always thought I was so different, you know?” Junmyeon says. “I had big dreams. I wanted this big adventurous life, and now… now, I’m happy with this?” 

“You’re happy?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“W-Well, yeah, of course I am,” Junmyeon says. “I have everything I could ever want.” 

“Then you didn’t just settle,” Kyungsoo says, easily tossing the sauce together. “You settled _down_.” 

“Is there a difference?” 

“Couldn’t be a bigger difference,” Kyungsoo smiles. “Settling, you feel unfulfilled. You resent the people around you. You feel stuck.” He shrugs his shoulders as he pours water into a pan. “Settling down? You make a choice to put in roots. You stick because you’ve tried other things and decided this is what you want.” He looks back at Junmyeon after he puts the water on the fire. “Is this the life you want?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says breathlessly. 

“Then you settled down,” Kyungsoo says. “And you did it with Sehun. Without even realizing it.” 

Junmyeon collapses to the counter, thunking his head onto the granite. 

“Are you dead?” Kyungsoo wonders. 

“I think I soon will be.” 

“What a shame,” Kyungsoo says. “These eggs are gonna be so good.” 

Junmyeon lifts his head suddenly, and Kyungsoo jumps a little. Pretty cutely, if Junmyeon says so himself. 

“Why does everyone think that me and Sehun are, like, together?” 

“Because you are,” Kyungsoo says. “I mean, everyone knows because it’s out in the open.” 

“It doesn’t feel out in the open to me,” Junmyeon says. “I hadn’t even thought about it, like, since all this began.” 

“Do you not feel romantically towards him?” Kyungsoo wonders. “There wouldn’t be anything wrong with only wanting friendship.” 

“I—I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I haven’t had enough time to think about this.” 

“Well, I mean… and take this with a grain of salt,” Kyungsoo says, chopping chives, “but usually if you have to consider whether or not you only see them as a friend, it means you have some lingering feelings that might need exercising.” 

“Exercising how?” 

“Stretch your legs with him,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Sleep with him?” 

“No?” Kyungsoo says. “Is everything about sex? I mean give it a try. Date him.” 

“I think he would know if I was trying to date him,” Junmyeon snorts. 

“He’s been trying to date you for, what, ten years?” Kyungsoo laughs. “Maybe it’s not as obvious as you think.” 

Junmyeon watches in stunned silence as Kyungsoo finishes up breakfast, frying up the ham and toasting the English muffin before plating up, smiling as he pushes over Junmyeon’s meal. 

“What do you think? Are you very impressed?” 

“I could not be more impressed,” Junmyeon praises. “Wanna see my area of expertise?” 

Kyungsoo nods, watching as Junmyeon pours their mugs full of coffee. He gives Junmyeon a little smile, and they dig in. Junmyeon moans softly at the taste of butter and lemon, the balance of salty and savory and just a little sweet. Immediately, it brings back memories of Sehun. Suddenly, Junmyeon can’t stop thinking about Sehun. When did that happen? 

“He made me dinner last night,” Junmyeon says softly. 

“Is that out of the ordinary?” 

“I guess not,” Junmyeon says. “It’s… we’ve done it before, but it felt different.” 

“I wonder why.” 

“Are you being sarcastic?” Junmyeon asks. “I can’t tell.” 

Kyungsoo snorts, and he takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m not saying anything. I just… it’s interesting to me that you’ve started reconsidering your relationship after all this started.” 

“It’s hard to imagine that it’s anyone other than him now,” Junmyeon says. “But… but would he lie to me?” 

“Sehun isn’t much for dishonesty,” Kyungsoo says with a shrug. “Ask him." 

And it occurs to Junmyeon that he hasn’t asked Sehun yet. Not really. Out of everyone he’d asked, never Sehun. He kept telling himself it couldn’t have been, not with the way he responded, not with the way he acted, but… maybe Sehun is better at acting than Junmyeon ever gave him credit for. 

Junmyeon and Kyungsoo wash up together, Junmyeon’s hands in the soapy water, Kyungsoo washing the dishes clean, and by the end of it, Junmyeon feels like at the very least, he’s got direction. He knows what he’s looking for next. 

“Take it easy on him,” Kyungsoo says when Junmyeon walks him to the door. "Trust him." 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just be nice, that’s all,” Kyungsoo says. “If it’s taken him this long to confess to you, then he must feel really strongly about you, okay? This isn’t some fly by night thing. He’s in it for the long haul, you know?” 

“Is that how you feel about Jongin?” Junmyeon asks. 

“No shit,” Kyungsoo smiles, and he ties up his laces quickly. “You want me to bring anything special on Christmas Eve?” 

“You’re the mastermind,” Junmyeon says. “Bring whatever inspires you. And don’t let Jongin near it.” 

Kyungsoo smiles at him, warm and soft, and Junmyeon pulls him into an embrace. He watches Kyungsoo walk away from the window, hands shoved in his pockets as he heads towards town. Junmyeon worries at his lip before he walks off back towards the kitchen, left to deal with the gift. 

He turns it over in his hand, studying the size. It looks like a jewelry box, something to hold a bracelet, but when he tears the wrapping, he opens it up to find a beautiful black pen with rose gold features, sleek and smart and totally up Junmyeon’s alley. He thinks about Sehun going to a store to pick out something so lovely, Junmyeon in his head. He almost doubles over, his stomach aches so much. 

He takes the tag, flips it open, and reads: 

_“There’s something special about everything you do. I think love makes me feel this way, but it could just be natural to you.”_

For the first time, there is no initial to accompany the note. Junmyeon’s stomach twists and untwists as he thinks about the implications of such a clue. This has been quite the experience; for the past week, he’s done nothing but stare at the scar tissue, making sure that he made the right decisions, diving back into the past and tossing it around in his hands until it was soft like clay. 

What’s next—the future? 

Is Sehun really his future? 

He sighs, tossing the card to the countertop before taking the pen in his hand. Surely, there must be some clue hiding in all these things, something to tie them all together and point him towards the right person. Because much as he would love it to be Sehun, he is totally _convinced_ it isn’t. 

He takes the pen, twists the cap, and opens the card again. He is amazed by the way the pen glides across the paper as he doodles a little seven-petaled flower with a spiraling center. Junmyeon sighs as he stares down at the little card, the words and the sentiment making him yearn for something he can’t understand.  
  


❄

He busies himself with pinning things to his Christmas Eve pinterest board, potential recipes and drink ideas, feet in his slippers, a glass of wine in his hand. It is much later in the day when he gets a knock on his door, and he shuffles over slowly with a blush on his face. There is another quick knock, and he groans.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he yells, and he opens the door for Sehun to grin at him, speckled with early evening snow. “You’re annoying.” 

“You’re drunk?” Sehun asks, and he takes his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “It’s 4:30.” 

“So? It’s Christmas,” Junmyeon says. 

“It’s December 20th.” 

“What’s your point?” 

“That it’s not Christmas,” Sehun laughs, and he looks up at the sky. “Could I come in? I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but it’s snowing.” 

Junmyeon shuffles back so that Sehun can come in, and he gets comfortable, taking off his coat and his scarf, the scarf _Junmyeon_ bought him. It’s the only scarf Junmyeon has ever seen him wear. Does that mean something? All the little things Junmyeon hasn’t noticed over the years, do they _matter_? Or is he letting people put things in his head? 

“How was your day?” Sehun asks. “You eat yet?” 

“Not yet,” Junmyeon says. “We could get something if you wanted.” He shrugs. “Kyungsoo came over.” 

“Yeah? How’d that go?” Sehun asks, and they move slowly towards the kitchen. 

Junmyeon waves his wine glass a little carelessly. “You know Kyungsoo. Philosophizing at me.” 

“He’s smarter than you,” Sehun says. 

“I resent that.” 

“Good, you were supposed to,” Sehun smiles. “We could just do peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner if you want.” 

“That’s not festive,” Junmyeon says. 

“Pizza isn’t festive either, and we had that, like, twice this week,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon sighs. “Peanut butter it is.” 

Sehun grins as he begins to wheel around the kitchen, gathering all his items before slapping some sandwiches together. 

“So it went okay?” Sehun asks, slathering peanut butter on two slices of bread. 

“Yeah, it was nice,” Junmyeon says. “He cooked me breakfast.” 

“Aren’t you lucky?” Sehun smiles. “Again, making me feel a little inadequate.” 

“Nothing better than a nice sandwich, Iron Chef.” 

Sehun snorts. “What’d you get today?” He looks over at Junmyeon. “Fancy pen?”

“Extremely fancy,” Junmyeon says. “The type of thing you only use to sign big checks with.” 

“Like oversized checks?” Sehun asks. 

“No, just, you know, monetarily big,” Junmyeon says. “Big money.” 

“Ah, I see,” Sehun says, working on the jelly. 

“I was gonna text you,” Junmyeon says. “Jongin was in town.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I was gonna see if he was gonna swing by to catch up with you after you finished at the shop. Totally slipped my mind, though.” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s okay,” Sehun says, and he slides Junmyeon’s sandwich forward. “They came over to the store after Kyungsoo was done here.” 

“To see you?” 

“Like that’s insane,” Sehun scoffs. “Someone wanting to see me.” 

“Oh, shut up, that’s not what I meant,” Junmyeon says. “What did you guys do?” 

Sehun shrugs his shoulders as he takes a bite of his sandwich. “Just talked, I guess. Hung out until I closed up.” 

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, and knowing that he shouldn’t pry, “what did you talk about?” 

“Nothing in particular,” Sehun says, setting his sandwich down. Junmyeon looks at him, shocked. 

He’s lying. He’s doing the thing he does when he lies. Looks away, rubs the back of his neck. He goes to Junmyeon’s refrigerator like he’s looking for something to drink, but that is _classic_ Sehun. Avoid and it will go away. 

Flooded with confusion and concern, Junmyeon wants to dig a little deeper. _What did you really talk about? What was it? Was it about me? Was it about us? The possibility of us?_

“I was thinking,” Junmyeon says suddenly. 

“What were you thinking?” Sehun asks, and he is slow to face Junmyeon again, but when he does, he’s smiling like nothing’s wrong, Brita in his hand. 

“Maybe we could take a run out to that tree farm tomorrow,” Junmyeon says, and he takes a bite of his sandwich. “They do fresh pine swag and centerpieces and garland strands, so I was thinking maybe I could pick up some for the party.” He bites his lip a little. “You know. Really make it nice.” 

“Yeah, no problem, that sounds good,” Sehun says. “I’ll drive.” 

“C-Cool,” Junmyeon says. 

“You wanna go early?” 

“Yeah, if we could,” Junmyeon says. “They open at seven.” 

“Then we will be there at seven,” Sehun assures him. “I’ll pick you up around six-thirty?” 

“Will you bring the good coffee?” Junmyeon asks. 

Sehun sighs, put upon. “Yes, I will bring the good coffee.” 

“A lot of it?” 

“A lot of it,” Sehun assures him again. 

“Then it’s a date,” Junmyeon says quickly before he can think himself out of it. 

Junmyeon waits for a potentially romantic response, but— 

“Sure,” Sehun says as if it doesn’t even matter, and he takes the last bite of his sandwich.

“Sure,” Junmyeon says flatly. 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says, and he sets his sandwich down, suddenly not very hungry, “it’s nothing. Wanna look at my Pinterest?” 

“Oh, nothing would delight me more,” Sehun deadpans, and Junmyeon drags him into the living room to sit on his couch, putting on a slideshow of appetizers and charcuterie boards and punch recipes. 

Sehun sits there and pays attention even though Junmyeon is sure that he couldn’t care less. He makes a few comments, gives some critiques here and there, and together, they come up with a menu. 

“Kinda late for developing this kind of thing, no?” Sehun asks. “Usually you have this stuff all figured out a year in advance.” 

“This has been kind of a weird time for me,” Junmyeon says. “Recontextualizing all my past relationships. All my _current_ relationships.” 

“Must be hard.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he lets his head fall onto Sehun’s shoulder. “Very hard.”

“It’ll be over soon,” Sehun reminds him. 

“I-It’s not that I hate it,” Junmyeon says suddenly, sitting up. “I don’t hate it.” 

“Okay,” Sehun smiles, a knit in his brow like he’s confused. 

“I like it,” Junmyeon says. “I do.” 

“All right, I believe you,” Sehun laughs. 

“It’s just a lot,” Junmyeon says quickly. “A lot to process.” 

“I sympathize,” Sehun says. “Do you wanna look at those slow cooker hot chocolate recipes again? I think the one with the cinnamon sounded best.” 

He takes Junmyeon’s laptop, clicks around, and Junmyeon sits there as Sehun talks about dark chocolate versus milk chocolate, milk versus heavy cream versus condensed milk. He takes stock of things, the way they’ve settled down, furniture falling into grooves on the carpet. Comfortable. Comforting.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting early bc time isnt real


	9. december 21st: the ninth day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon stands in front of his closet, and he worries over all his different choices. He knows for a fact that he will be wearing Sehun’s oversized white cardigan, the plaid scarf that Sehun had given him a few years prior, so he works off those elements and develops a cheerful little holiday look perfect for the morning. There is very little that tops the festivity of a tree farm, and Junmyeon lets that spirit infect and overwhelm him.

He hops down the stairs with pep in his step to find a gift waiting. He wheels around, unwrapping the gift patchily, excitedly. It is a new set of outerwear, a beautiful white scarf and white hat and soft white gloves. He waffles over switching his scarf, but in the end, he settles on just popping on the hat and gloves. He reads the note just as Sehun knocks at his door. 

_”I feel like I should move on, but I don’t want to move on from you. I want this to work. I want you to love me too. I hope you do.”_

Junmyeon puts the card on the rushed unwrappings, swinging the door open with a grin, and Sehun smiles back at him. 

“You look very cheerful,” Sehun says. 

“You look less cheerful than I’d like,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’m gonna stop and get a McMuffin,” Sehun says, rubbing his stomach. “I think that will cheer me up.” 

“Whatever you want,” Junmyeon says. “On me.” 

“Then I will gently add a hash brown to my order.” 

“As long as you kept the coffee in the car with the heat on, then we’re good,” Junmyeon says. “Let me just grab my coat and keys.” 

And so once Junmyeon has his shoes on and his coat buttoned, his scarf already wrapped tightly around his neck, he and Sehun head outside to be bowled over by the morning cold. 

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Junmyeon says, and he shuffles his feet down the walk so he doesn’t slip, hurrying towards Sehun’s car. “Open, open.” 

“It’s open,” Sehun laughs. “You should invest in some better gloves or something.” 

“I’ve got gloves. Brand new gloves, actually,” Junmyeon says, and he opens the door, slipping into the passenger's seat. “Oh. Yeah. This is nice.” 

Sehun follows close behind, hands on the wheel. 

“You’ve got, like, fashion gloves. Not like, _keep your hands warm_ type gloves.” 

“I feel like fashion is more important,” Junmyeon says, and he takes the large mug of coffee from the cup holder in the center console. “Yeah. This is the good stuff.” 

“Glad you enjoy,” Sehun says, and he busies himself with his phone, typing in the farm’s name into Maps. “Oh. ETA is 7:02.” 

“That’s what I get for demanding excellence,” Junmyeon says with a sigh. “Disappointment.” 

“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” Sehun says. 

“And yet, you’re still here,” Junmyeon says. “What does that say about you?” 

“I love pain and misery,” Sehun says, and he puts his car into gear, pulling away from the curb. 

They stop for McDonald's breakfast sandwiches as they planned, and Sehun drives with one hand as he eats. Junmyeon turns on the Christmas music, and Sehun looks over at him with a little grin. Junmyeon wonders whether or not he really finds it charming, whether he’s learned to love it or whether he’s loved it all along. 

Junmyeon takes a sip of the coffee. “Thank you again for driving.” 

Sehun shrugs. “I wasn’t doing anything else this morning. I mean, besides sleeping. Also, I like to drive during the winter.” 

“Isn’t that traditionally the worst time to drive?” Junmyeon asks. 

“If you’re bad at driving,” Sehun says. 

“And you’re excellent,” Junmyeon says. 

“Thank you for realizing this,” Sehun says with a smile. “But come on, how are you gonna say no to all this?” 

The highway does look particularly lovely, busy with holiday traffic, the trees lining the road topped with heavy snow. Junmyeon smiles as he leans his head against the window, staring out at the magic that swirls down from the sky. With anyone else, Junmyeon thinks he’d probably be a little hesitant to drive in such weather. It says something, certainly, that Junmyeon trusts Sehun over everyone else. 

Junmyeon hums along to the Christmas carols as they drive, and Sehun talks about the book drive tomorrow. They’ve run it for as long as Junmyeon can remember, probably after the second year they opened the shop. It was a great way to show the community that they were just as invested in the town as the town could be in them, and ever since, the book shop has been a cornerstone of the shop’s mainline. Junmyeon takes great pride in the drive, and he’s excited to see all the smiling faces, all the enthusiastic people ready to give the gift of literacy and learning during such a wonderful time of the year. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sehun asks softly. “You asleep?” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, and he sits up straighter, yawning. “Just thinking about the drive tomorrow.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Sehun says. “Did I tell you I got a big donation? Two hundred books.” 

“Wow,” Junmyeon says. “Nice.” 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Sehun says. “Have you talked to the Boys and Girls Club about the drop off?” 

“They said the first was good,” Junmyeon says. “So we can run for a while.” 

“That’s good,” Sehun says. “It’s a pretty high goal this year.” 

“Five thousand? We’ve been running this for, like, ever.” 

“We’re a small town,” Sehun says. “Don’t get your heart broken if we don’t meet the goal, that’s all I’ll say.” 

“We’ll meet the goal one way or another,” Junmyeon says. “If I have to donate every book we have in the shop, we’ll meet the goal.” 

Sehun sighs good-naturedly. “If nothing else, you are determined.” 

“And that’s something to be proud of,” Junmyeon says. “Determination.” 

“Sometimes,” Sehun says. “Sometimes.” 

“Are you judging me?” 

“Always,” Sehun says, and he quickly gives Junmyeon a smile. “You can nap if you’re tired.” 

“It’s not even an hour drive, I think I can handle it,” Junmyeon says. “I’m not a thousand years old.” 

“Even if you were, you use enough skincare products to not look it.” 

“Are you _judging again_?” 

“Nah,” Sehun says, and this time, he aims his smile out over the road, chewed up and spat out behind them. “I think it’s cute.” 

For some reason, Junmyeon’s stomach flips inside him. Sehun’s called him cute before. Why does it affect him _now_? Junmyeon clears his throat quickly. 

“Shut up.” 

“You always like it when people call you cute,” Sehun says. “You call yourself cute on a daily basis.” 

“Well, that’s because I am,” Junmyeon says. 

“I agree,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon groans. “What?” 

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says, and in a fit of insanity, he decides that honesty is the best policy when in fact, it has always been the worst. “Feels funny when you say it.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sehun says, and Junmyeon can’t place the tone, though he struggles as he tries. “I won’t say it anymore, then.” 

“I-I didn’t mean like that,” Junmyeon says. “Shut up.” 

“How did you mean it?” Sehun asks. “Not that I care one way or the other.” 

Junmyeon looks over, sees Sehun’s knuckles go snow-capped on the wheel. Junmyeon looks away like he’s seen something he shouldn’t. 

“I don’t know,’ Junmyeon says, and he spews out reasonings he’s heard as he tries to stumble onto the truth. “You feel like my brother.” 

“W—Your brother? Really?” 

“Yeah, you know,” Junmyeon smiles, and he immediately feels himself falling into a lie. “Comfortable. I feel more comfortable around you than anyone else.” 

“Ah, I get it,” Sehun says with a smile. “I feel the same.” 

For the rest of the drive, things are eerily quiet, almost uncomfortable. Junmyeon’s very rarely had a moment such as this with Sehun, and it kills him, absolutely _guts_ him. 

Maybe he was right in the first place. Maybe it’s best to be honest, and if you can’t be honest, just keep your mouth shut.  
  


❄

Ironically, things thaw as they step outside into the bitter cold. Junmyeon begins to screech, and Sehun throws his arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders as they walk towards the big barn on the farm’s property. It feels like being plunged into soup, walking inside to look at the wares, local arts and crafts. Junmyeon picks out several different centerpieces, bits of swag, and Sehun nods along like he cares. Junmyeon appreciates that.

After loading the car with their purchases, they take a walk around the farm together, just looking at the trees. Junmyeon thinks there is nothing more romantic than the early morning smell of snow over a freshly cut Christmas tree, and it occurs to him that over the years, no one has ever accompanied him each year… no one except for Sehun. 

He looks at Sehun differently as they drive back to the store, spending the better part of the afternoon putting together things for the kick-off of the book drive the following morning. He doesn’t think of Sehun like a brother. He doesn’t even know why he said it. It was insane. It was stupid. It was just plain wrong. 

Junmyeon watches Sehun lick his lips as they walk down the street, carrying the bins from Junmyeon’s house to the shop, Sehun’s car too small to house them. Junmyeon stares up at the sky. The clouds still look heavy, but it’s stopped snowing for now. 

“Hopefully we can get this done before it starts again,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks at him, studying the pink of Sehun’s mouth as if just looking at him for the first time. He wonders what it would be like to kiss Sehun. Would he take things slow? Chaste before letting it drip into passion? Would he make Junmyeon moan as he took his time? Or would it feel like a firestorm, red rain and amber skies as Junmyeon gave himself over to it? The passion? The ardor? 

“Hey,” Sehun says quickly, and Junmyeon is forced to clear the cobwebs upstairs. “I asked for the chapstick.” 

Junmyeon digs around in his coat pocket before tossing it to Sehun, watching as he applies it liberally. 

“You should stop licking your lips,” Junmyeon warns. “That’s what you get.” 

“Yeah, yeah, all right, I get it,” Sehun says. “ _Mom._ ”

Junmyeon reaches over and hits him in the shoulder. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Yeah, that would definitely make the familial relationships strange, wouldn’t it?” Sehun jokes, but there is a little edge to it, a little roughness that there wouldn’t otherwise be. 

Junmyeon’s known him long enough. Junmyeon can tell. 

“Don’t be like that,” Junmyeon says.

“I’m not being like anything,” Sehun says, and he turns sharply, looking around the shop. “Do you need anything else done today? The signs are all up, the bins are here.” He looks around again. “I’ll get the coffee grounds and the danishes in the morning. Anything else?” 

“I think that’s it,” Junmyeon says. “A-And I really appreciate your help. Truly.” 

Sehun smiles. “Yeah, all right, all right, I got it.” He tosses the chapstick back to Junmyeon, and Junmyeon stuffs it away into his pocket once more. “You wanna go to the general store? We could pick up salads.” 

“Yeah, I could do with some vegetables, honestly,” Junmyeon smiles, and they head over together, side by side as they look through the options. 

Sehun settles on a Greek salad, Junmyeon on a kale salad, and they head back to Junmyeon’s to eat. They each have one glass of red wine to finish the meal, polishing off the bottle before Junmyeon walks Sehun out to his car to say goodbye for the evening. 

“You wanna take a walk real fast?” Sehun asks. “There’s some new lights on your block.” 

“Oh, y-yeah,” Junmyeon smiles. “That would be nice.” 

They walk up, shoes scuffing the sidewalk as they observe the different displays. Junmyeon puts his foot down when it comes to inflatables, but Sehun thinks they’re fun, especially when he sees a couple that are baby chick themed. 

“You have no taste,” Junmyeon says. “But I already knew that so you get a pass.” 

“This is why I don’t go all out when it comes to Christmas decorations,” Sehun says. “Because I have the most impossible to please judge in the fucking universe standing behind me, pointing out my flaws.” 

“Hey, if you want the ugly chickens, by all means,” Junmyeon laughs, and his breath puffs out in white as the snows begin to fall yet again. “Wow. It’s so nice when it snows, but honestly, this is getting crazy.”

“It’s weird because it hasn’t really stuck much,” Sehun says. “You’d think, you know, with all the snow, we’d be able to get more than a few inches.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Ah, I like it like this though.” 

“You just like that you don’t have to shovel,” Sehun says. 

“I wouldn’t be shoveling anyway,” Junmyeon says, and he bumps his shoulder into Sehun’s as they turn, walking back up towards Junmyeon’s house. 

“Yeah, that’s just the kind of thing a brother like me would do,” Sehun teases, but again, Junmyeon can feel the little spiteful acid underneath the words. He can tell Sehun is upset. 

Truthfully, Junmyeon doesn’t blame him. 

As they slow to a stop before Junmyeon’s house, Junmyeon reaches out to tug Sehun’s hand into his. This is the moment, he tells himself. It is now or never. He has to know one way or the other. He has to make sure Sehun knows that he… that he misspoke. He has to make sure Sehun knows how he feels. 

“H-Hey, listen,” Junmyeon says. “About earlier.” 

“It’s fine,” Sehun says. “I didn’t… I don’t care. I’m glad you feel, you know, that close to me.” 

“I didn’t mean it,” Junmyeon says. 

“It’s okay if you did.” 

“But I didn’t,” Junmyeon says, and he fiddles with his hands. “Y-You know how sometimes, you just say things in order to, like, narrow things down? Like you’re guessing at your own feelings? A-And trying to find what sticks?” 

“No,” Sehun smiles. “But I know that’s how _you_ do things.” 

“Not all of us are so, like, emotionally intelligent,” Junmyeon frowns, but he lets it slide away as he tries to look apologetic. “I, uh, I don’t think of you as a brother. Sorry for saying that. Sorry if it made you feel weird.” 

“Why would it make me feel weird?” Sehun asks, and he looks away. 

Junmyeon chases his eyeline, finds him staring at a nearby house. The lights are cool white, blue, and purple. It is a very nice display. 

“I had something I wanted to ask,” Junmyeon says. “S-Something important, I guess.” 

Sehun looks over, and his eyes are full of starlight. The warm colors of love. 

“What is it?” 

“Is it you?” Junmyeon asks. “Are you the… the twelve days of Christmas?” 

“W-What?” 

“Is it you?” Junmyeon asks. “If it was you, it would be okay. You could tell me.” 

“It’s not me,” Sehun says, furrowing his brow. “Like, I would tell you if it was. But believe me. It’s not me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“What, you don’t trust me?” 

“I-I trust you, I just—” 

“Just what?” 

“J-Just, I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “We’re close, you know.” 

“I don’t have, like, four thousand dollars to spend on you,” Sehun snorts. “Sorry.” 

“Ah, yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he stares at his shoes. “Sorry, I guess I was… you know, being crazy.” 

“No, it’s not crazy,” Sehun says, and when Junmyeon feels drawn upwards, he sees a fragility in Sehun that he has never seen, or perhaps never _noticed_ before. 

“You don’t think?” 

“No,” Sehun says, and he sends a little smile down to Junmyeon. “Honestly, like... if I had that kind of money, I think I’d buy that stuff for you too.” 

“W—Really?”

“No shit, of course,” Sehun says, and he pulls Junmyeon into a hug, an embrace that feels like a prelude. 

Junmyeon breathes out, breathes in, and all he can taste is the cold. When he withdraws, he thinks Sehun might put his hands on Junmyeon’s neck, might pull him towards a kiss. Junmyeon bites his lip as he stares into Sehun’s eyes. 

“You should get inside,” Sehun says softly. 

“R-Really?” 

Sehun shrugs. “Have to keep yourself on your toes for your Secret Santa.” 

Sehun turns his back on Junmyeon, and it is striking the way it calls everything into sharp focus. Junmyeon wanted with all his heart for Sehun to be behind this. Junmyeon wanted with every fiber of his being to be kissed by Sehun. Junmyeon wants, has wanted maybe, maybe always distantly wanted for Sehun to belong to him. 

He goes inside that evening, and he lies in bed, thinking about what it would be like if Sehun was next to him. If Sehun ever took initiative and touched him. Would it feel like dams breaking? Ropes snapping? Ice cracking into spidering veins? Would it be difficult, _impossible_ to hold himself back? Would it be all the permission Junmyeon ever needed to take, keep taking forever? 

He sighs. Sleep comes impossibly hard. He ends up spending a bit too long looking through his pictures on his phone. Junmyeon ends up hovering over pictures of Sehun and him together, the way their faces touch, cheek to cheek. Did Sehun’s heart race each time? Or did he get used to it? Did the potency of each little touch, each little affection… did it lessen over time? Would he even know if Junmyeon felt the same now?

Junmyeon groans, and he flops around in bed for a moment or two before thinking that yes, it would be a good idea to get some fresh air since he clearly won’t be sleeping anytime soon. He walks down his stairs softly like he might wake someone up, and he unlocks the door before stepping out. 

He walks outside, robe and slippers and lotion socks wrapped tightly around him, and he finds the present for the following day already delivered. _How strange_ , he thinks, clicking his phone. It’s not even four in the morning. 

Sehun was telling the truth, of course. Junmyeon knows that for a fact now. He would never lie, and he would _definitely_ never get up in the middle of the night for something so frivolous. He takes the present inside, not wanting it to be covered in a thin layer of snow, and he goes to bed with a fraught heart.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something very pleasing to me about gay little suho planning his christmas outfits like a montage from a disney channel original movie. like.... walking on sunshine is playing in the background. also u guys are so nice! thank u for liking this story! it makes my lil holiday season so happy.


	10. december 22nd: the tenth day

  
  


❄

The morning of the book drive almost always feels Christmas has come early. Junmyeon all but leaps out of bed to jump into the shower, and for a moment, he is almost concerned by how unencumbered he feels. He slept so fitfully, but now, he is full of energy, full of joy. There is something infectious and bright about the day of such a nice event, and Junmyeon doesn't think too much over it, not as he dresses or gets his things together, but when he opens the door to see Sehun's smiling face, he is bowled over, distressed and undone.

This has got to be love. 

"What?" Sehun asks. 

"What what?" Junmyeon says very smartly. 

"You're such a fucking weirdo," Sehun says, and he pushes the large travel mug of spiced coffee into Junmyeon's hands. "Drink up. The big day is finally upon us." He looks back as he closes the door behind them. "Already get your present today?" 

"You wouldn't believe it," Junmyeon says, and he takes a long, luxurious sip of the coffee. "I got up last night at like, three-thirty? Came downstairs, right? It was already there." 

"What?" 

"Swear to God," Junmyeon says. 

"That's so fucking strange," Sehun says. "It's there as soon as you open the door that day." He shakes his head, walking into the kitchen. 

"This guy, whoever he is... like magic or something," Junmyeon says, and for some silly reason, his heart leaps in his chest. 

"Magic isn't real," Sehun says. "Do I have to keep reminding you of this basic fact?" 

"Magic is real. Magic is real as long as you believe." He pats his chest. "It's in here." 

"I mean, seriously," Sehun says. "You don't think it's actually magic." 

Junmyeon shrugs his shoulders. "I mean, it's not you, it's not any of them, who else could it be?" Sehun sighs, and he grabs the stack of flyers from Junmyeon's counter. "What?" 

"Maybe, like, someone else?" Sehun says. "Someone waiting for their shot with you?" 

"Oh, please," Junmyeon says. "You're making magic seem more and more plausible." 

"Would it be so insane for you to have a secret admirer?" 

"A secret admirer that's willing to drop several thousand dollars on me?" Junmyeon asks. "Yes. That is insane." He looks around for his wallet. "Chanyeol gave me the number of a lawyer. Maybe I will have to get a restraining order." 

Sehun laughs, and he gathers up the rest of their supplies for the morning, a couple rolls of packing tape and the fold up boxes. 

"Ready to head out?" Sehun asks. "Anything else you need?" 

"I think I'm good," Junmyeon says, looking around. "You good?" 

"I'm good," Sehun says, and they go, walking the half mile to the shop. 

Happily, the overnight bins that they've left outside, domed with clear plastic, have already been filled. Junmyeon claps excitedly as he waits for Sehun to open the doors, and once they've set down their things, they work on moving the bin back into Junmyeon's office. 

"Okay, okay," Junmyeon says, the flutter of excitement getting to him. "Stack them by 25, and we'll add them to the counter." 

"I'll box them up," Sehun says. "You can go out front and start working on the hot chocolate and coffee bar." He shrugs. "You're better at that kind of thing." 

"Thank you," Junmyeon says. "I am, aren't I?" 

"I'm regretting this already," Sehun says, and he stares down at the bin that's been stacked full. "There must be a hundred in here at least. Maybe a hundred and fifty." 

"Add that to our start of two hundred...," Junmyeon says dreamily. 

" _My_ start of two hundred," Sehun says. 

" _Our_ start of two hundred," Junmyeon says. 'We're well on our way of smashing the goal on the very first day." 

"You're insane," Sehun says. "There's no way we break five thousand books on the very first day." 

"Wanna bet?" 

Sehun raises his head. "You want to bet?" 

Junmyeon shrugs his shoulder. "Loser cooks dinner." 

"A fancy dinner," Sehun says, pointing a skinny, judgmental finger at Junmyeon. "No mac and cheese from a box. I'm talking effort." 

"Why are you talking at me like I'm going to lose?" 

"Because you are going to lose," Sehun grins, and he sticks out his hand for Junmyeon to take. 

Junmyeon squeezes Sehun's hand in his as he shakes it. "You're on, bitch." 

Sehun smiles, pulling back. "I'll go get the danishes and the coffee once I'm done boxing these. You need me to get anything else while I'm out?" 

"I think we're good, honestly," Junmyeon says, and he bounces on his heels. "More than anything, I am delighted at the opportunity to get another meal from you." And he points at Sehun with a grin. "I'm not washing a single dish." 

"When do you ever?" Sehun says, rolling his eyes. 

Junmyeon lets his laugh carry him back through the front of the shop. He stacks the flyers on the counter next to the cash register, neatens up the place and checks all the decorations. The coffee and hot chocolate bar is easy enough to set up, the stainless steel servers from his own personal collection. He sets out the little dishes of creams, sugars, the shakers of cinnamon and cocoa powder, and then fills jars with toppings for hot chocolate: various flavorings of marshmallows, candy canes for stirring, crushed peppermint, chocolate chips and butterscotch pieces, pirouette cookies and chopped nuts and sprinkles. He stands back as he works, checking how everything looks as he goes. 

He watches as Sehun heads out, and he absently watches him go, a little smile creeping onto his face. They really do make a good team. Isn't that what love is all about? 

Once Sehun returns with his arms full, they fill the servers with water, and Sehun fixes the coffee, pouring in the grounds from Last Drop before plugging in the machines. The scent of freshly brewed spiced coffee begins to pour out over them, and Junmyeon sighs with pleasure. 

"I think we're ready to open," Sehun says, and he looks back to Junmyeon. "You wanna do the honors?" 

"Shut up," Junmyeon says. "Flip the sign." 

Sehun flips the sign to open. "The heat is on." 

"Only four thousand, seven hundred books to go," Junmyeon says, and he points out the window to a lady and a younger boy holding a couple thin chapter books. "Look someone's on their way."

"You better hope they have a truck behind them," Sehun says. "I think for my meal, I would like something that takes work. A nice boeuf bourguignon." 

"Bite your tongue," Junmyeon says, and when the door jingles open, he smiles. "Hi, welcome! Can we help you with anything today?" 

"You're doing a book drive?" the boy asks nervously. "Can we donate some books?" 

"You absolutely may," Junmyeon says. "Thank you so much. Did you know that these books will go to a place where other boys and girls will get to read them?" 

"Really?" the boy asks. "I already read them, so... so I think that's good." 

"I think it's very good," Junmyeon says, and he points the boy over towards one of the bins along the free wall. "Would you like to put your books into one of these bins?" 

The boy bends over, gently placing the books into the bottom of the empty bin. 

"I'm the first?" he asks happily, looking back towards the woman with him. 

"You're the first," Junmyeon says. "You know what you get for that?" 

"What?" 

"A pin," Junmyeon says, and when he looks back, Sehun has already fetched one for him to hand over. "There. Isn't that nice?" 

"Yeah," the boy says. "Thanks." 

"And did you know that we've got hot chocolate here?" Junmyeon asks. "Santa helped us set everything up." 

"He did?" the boy asks, eyes wide. "You know Santa. That’s so cool."

"He's a close personal friend," Junmyeon nods. "I'll put in a good word for you this year." 

The boy looks back at his adult with a grin, and the lady gives Junmyeon a smile. 

He watches as they help themselves to the coffee and cocoa, shopping around for another couple minutes before settling on the first Dogman book. Sehun checks them out, telling the boy that he'll really enjoy the series, and they wave the pair off. 

Junmyeon claps his hands together with excitement. 

"That was nice," Sehun says. "Very nice." 

"I love this time of the year," Junmyeon says. "Ah." 

"Only, what? Four thousand, six hundred, and ninety-seven books to go?" Sehun teases. 

"Shut up," Junmyeon says with a grin.  
  


❄

Over the course of the day, they get plenty of visitors. Some just stop by to make donations, some stop to shop, some come to purchase books to donate, and some do a combination of both. On the whole, it is their busiest day of the year. Junmyeon keeps the tally, and once they break the two thousand book mark on the first day alone, Sehun looks at him wryly.

"I'm very proud of you," Sehun says. 

"I bet," Junmyeon says. 

"You're not going to win this," Sehun says. 

"I'm sure you think that." 

"It's literally impossible," Sehun says. 

"Never underestimate the power of giving," Junmyeon says, and he grabs another cup of coffee as the clock strikes one. 

"Hey," Sehun says, and Junmyeon turns, hands shaking. "Enough coffee, I think." 

"I need energy," Junmyeon says, and he dances left and right. "I have to inspire the masses. I have to make them open their hearts and their wallets." 

"Maybe eat something," Sehun encourages, and he points back to the office. "I got you a sandwich from Red Barn. I put it in the mini fridge." 

"I gotta keep going," Junmyeon says, and he leaps from foot to foot. "We won't meet our goal if I stop." 

"You'll drop dead from a heart attack if you keep going," Sehun says, rolling his eyes, and he gently takes Junmyeon's paper cup of coffee from his hand before nudging him back towards the office. "Go eat. I'll cover." 

"You gotta eat too," Junmyeon calls back. 

"I'll eat after you, you fucking lunatic," Sehun says, and even though Junmyeon can't see him, he can certainly hear the delight. 

Junmyeon eats his little turkey and cheese on rye as quickly as he can manage without giving himself a stomach ache, and he bursts back out of the office four minutes later, huffing. 

"Jesus," Sehun says, and he is sitting at the cash register, selling a gratitude journal to an older lady. "Did you inhale it?" 

"I'm back, I'm better than ever," Junmyeon says. "Did we get any more donations?" 

"The women's health center lady came by," Sehun says. "She donated fifty." 

"Oh yes," Junmyeon says, and he goes over to his counter, coloring in another two blocks. "We are going to get there." 

"I would pump the breaks," Sehun says. "It's getting late, and you know that things slow down." 

"Never slow down," Junmyeon says, and he smiles at the old lady. "Did Sehun encourage you to donate?" 

"He did," she says. "I bought two extra books." 

"Thank you very much," Junmyeon says and he points her over towards the refuel station. "Could I interest you in a cup of hot chocolate? A nice cup of spiced coffee?" 

"Honey, I think you've had enough for the pair of us," she smiles, and she nods at Sehun before taking her leave. 

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Junmyeon asks. "As if I'm crazy or something?" 

"Yeah," Sehun laughs, "as if."  
  


❄

Three rolls around, and nerves begin to build in Junmyeon's stomach. They're about halfway to their goal, but if he doesn't do something drastic, they'll never make it in time.

"There's still time," Sehun says boredly, flipping through a magazine at the counter. "Just chill." 

"I can't chill," Junmyeon says. "If I chill, I lose." 

"The horror," Sehun says. 

"Exactly," Junmyeon says. "Horrible. I have to do more. I have to get more people to give." 

"There's only so many people in this little town," Sehun says. "They can't all donate a thousand books." 

Junmyeon frowns. 

"I have to do something." 

"Admit defeat," Sehun says. 

"I'd rather die," Junmyeon says. 

Sehun huffs. "I know. Couldn't make things easy." 

"Easy? _Never_ ," Junmyeon says. "You just want a free meal." 

"You got me," Sehun says. 

“I’m gonna go to the town hall,” Junmyeon says, and he bundles himself up quickly. “See if I can rustle up a few hundred more donations.” 

“Good luck,” Sehun says, and when Junmyeon looks over, he’s smiling. “I hope you win.” 

“Don’t say that,” Junmyeon says with a frown. “Makes me feel like you pity me.” 

“I do,” Sehun laughs, and Junmyeon doesn’t look back.  
  


❄

As he's out and about, he manages another one hundred donations, whether it's through a cash donation or through the donation of someone who hasn't stopped by yet. He does get a little nervous as he heads back to the shop, and when he sees the time, he gets a little more nervous.

Junmyeon stands at the window, observing Sehun from the street for a moment. There is no one in the shop, no one at all, and Junmyeon... he feels his spirit breaking. 

Sehun turns at the sound of the jingle bells, Junmyeon coming back with his arms full of boxes and bags.

"How many did you get?" Sehun asks. He gestures to Junmyeon's haul. "That looks promising." 

"It's not,' Junmyeon says. "It's not promising at all." 

"It's a great start," Sehun says. 

"The day is almost over," Junmyeon says. "I won't even break three thousand at this rate." 

"Junmyeon." 

"What?" 

"Should I tell you you're being crazy now?" Sehun asks. "Or should I have done it much earlier than now?" 

"I'm not crazy," Junmyeon says. "I just wanted... I wanted to win so badly." 

"I know," Sehun says. "But this is the biggest first day we've ever had. We're already halfway to our goal." 

Junmyeon frowns, and Sehun stands up from his stool. Junmyeon watches as he rounds the counter, gathering Junmyeon in a tight embrace. Junmyeon sighs out, lets the touch do its magic, compressing him and pushing everything else away. He had never realized before this moment, but God, there is something lovely about the way Sehun touches him. 

"It's all right," Sehun says. "Don't worry about it." 

"I don't wanna cook for you," Junmyeon says, and Sehun laughs so hard he shakes. 

Junmyeon finds himself laughing along, and they stand there in the empty shop, bathing in something warm and familiar. 

"Can I come over after work?" Sehun asks. "We can watch one of your stupid Christmas movies." 

"Okay," Junmyeon says hopefully. "That sounds good." He pulls back from Sehun's arms. "I don't have any food. I don't have anything to make for you." 

Sehun rolls his eyes. "We'll pick something up, okay?" 

"Okay," Junmyeon says, and he hugs Sehun again, this time squeezing him with all his might.  
  


❄

They wrap things up at an all-time high for their first day. 2,722 books. Junmyeon tries to feel satisfied with that.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" Sehun teases. 

"Don't," Junmyeon says, and he wraps his arms around him as they walk back to Junmyeon's house. "I don't wanna talk about it." 

"My lips are sealed," Sehun says. 

Junmyeon knows that in any other case, Sehun would almost certainly take the opportunity to hold it over Junmyeon's head, tease him and prod at him and make him smile in his anger, but now... there is something incredibly gentle about the way he's being treated. Almost as though Sehun has decided not to take his God-given right to gloat. 

He carries grocery bags back to Junmyeon's, and Junmyeon sits at the counter as Sehun fixes them a meal, stir-fried chicken and vegetables dripping with a sticky sweet soy sauce. Junmyeon feels like a complete loser, being upset over something so trivial, but Sehun gently encourages him to eat at the couch, and he queues up _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. 

Junmyeon looks at Sehun as they eat, and he can't help but feel as though he's being babied. He's so used to babying Sehun, and now... things are different, aren't they? He can't tell exactly what's changed, but he can say with absolute clarity that it is for the better. 

They watch the movie in comfortable silence, a soft red blanket tucked over their laps, and Sehun leaves in the middle to take care of their dishes, returning with mugs of hot chocolate overflowing with miniature marshmallows. 

“It’s really coming down,” Sehun says, brushing past the window. “I wonder if it will stick tonight.” 

“Could be more than a foot,” Junmyeon says, sighing. 

Sehun smiles as he bumps his shoulder back against Junmyeon’s. 

"You're spoiling me," Junmyeon says. 

"Forget about the goal," Sehun says. 

"And the bet?" Junmyeon asks. 

"You can forget about that too," Sehun says. He sends Junmyeon a soft smile, looking even softer under the soft white light of the tree. "I'm proud of you." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Always." 

Moments like these keep popping up, elegant, tender moments so tight with tension that Junmyeon wants to reach out and cut it himself. 

"Hey," Junmyeon says, and he lays his head on Sehun's shoulder. "What do you think I should do when whoever it is steps forward?" 

"I dunno," Sehun says. "I guess it depends on if you like them back." 

"A-And if I like them back?" Junmyeon asks. 

Sehun goes silent, painful and thorned. 

"I dunno," Sehun says shortly. "I guess... you know, whatever it is you do when you like someone." 

Junmyeon bites his lip, wants to tell him that it doesn't matter how many gifts he's received, it doesn't matter who is behind all of this. If Junmyeon had his choice, it would be Sehun behind all of it. It would always be Sehun. 

"I should get going," Sehun says. "It's getting late." 

"N-No, you should… you should stay," Junmyeon says. He points to the window, gestures to the storm outside. “It’s a nightmare out." 

“Oh, come on,” Sehun says. “I live right down the street.” 

“It’s a mess,” Junmyeon needles. “I can sleep on the couch.” 

“I wouldn’t make you do that,” Sehun says. 

“I would insist,” Junmyeon grins. 

“I cannot accept.” 

“Why not?” 

“It would be too stereotypical,” Sehun says. “A real _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_ scenario.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Junmyeon scowls, and he begins to make up a bed for himself on the couch. 

Secretly, he thinks to himself, this is an excellent plan. He will be able to catch Sehun in the act of placing the present at his doorstep, and he will be able to catch him in the lie. 

Junmyeon turns back to Sehun, gestures towards the stairs. “Go, go.” 

“All right,” Sehun smiles softly. "I'm sorry." 

"Why?" 

"I dunno," Sehun says. "Just felt like I was a jerk earlier." 

"What? No," Junmyeon says. "You're not. You're my favorite." 

Sehun says his goodnight as he walks up Junmyeon’s stairs, his smile sad. Junmyeon wonders why that is. He looks so regretful. Almost like he wished he had done all this. Like he wishes he had thought of it. 

Junmyeon unwraps the present that evening, an expensive set of charcoal grey and white-piped pajamas, so soft to the touch that it makes his skin feel rough. He checks the tag, and he reads: 

_"I hope I'll get the chance to love you. I hope you'll let me."_

Junmyeon holds the tag close to him as he falls asleep, an alarm set for midnight.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trust-issues.mp3 
> 
> almost there! thanks for following along :o)


	11. december 23rd: the eleventh day

  
  


❄

The alarm blares him awake, filtering through his cotton pillow. He hurries to shut it off, blinking away the confused sleep from his eyes. He sits up, squinting as he tries to listen for noise. He hears no stirring through the house, none at all, so he stands up, pads silently to the stairs.

He heads upstairs, avoiding all the spots that will creak, and he opens his bedroom door. Sehun is asleep, chest rising and falling slowly in a deep slumber. Satisfied, Junmyeon pads back downstairs and heads for the front door. 

As soon as he's there, he hears a soft sound. The sound of a person, an unfamiliar laughter like rung bells. Junmyeon stares at the door, sees the shadow of a small person, almost a _child_ , and he steps forward, shocked. 

Hand on the door knob, he turns it suddenly as if to surprise the kid, but when he draws the door open, the only thing that greets him is a wintry wind, speckled with ice and so frigid it shocks the air right out of him. He looks around, left and right, left and right, but the child has gone, vanished into the thin cold air, and all that's left of them is the giant silvery-gold box on his doorstep, stamped with an insanely sized bow. 

Junmyeon sighs out, frustrated. He is always left with more questions than answers, but now... now he must admit that there is something else going on. Sehun is asleep upstairs, unaware, and yet the present is here at midnight with or without him. Bending over with terrible form, he attempts to lift the present inside, struggling at first. It is heavier than he thought it would be. 

Bending at the knee, he squats down and lifts it properly, waddling over to the still kitchen and plopping it on the counter. He stares at the box, grabs the tag. He lets his finger glide over his own name, the swirling letters so familiar to him now that he could probably trace it in his sleep. 

He opens the small card, and he reads the words that are meant for him. 

_"If it all goes wrong, I still think I'll love you with my whole heart. It doesn't feel like something that will disappear tomorrow or even the day after that."_

Junmyeon sighs, clutching the piece of paper in his hand, and he takes it to the couch with him, staring up at the words as he drifts back to sleep. He is so tired.  
  


❄

"Hey... hey," Sehun whispers, and he is nudging Junmyeon awake. Junmyeon swats at him. "Okay, okay, jeez. I forgot how mean you are when you wake up."

"I'm not mean," Junmyeon says. "I'm very cheerful." 

"Yeah, you're radiating joy right now." Sehun smiles down at him, gently adjusts the blankets wrapped around him. "I don't mean to alarm you..." 

"That is exactly the kind of thing I want to hear upon first waking up in the morning," Junmyeon groans, "Go on. Alarm me." 

"Someone broke in," Sehun says. "O-Or at least I think they did?" 

"What are you fucking talking about?" Junmyeon asks, sitting up so quickly he gets a little dizzy. "What are you—they broke in?" 

"The door was unlocked, and there's a big gift in the kitchen," Sehun says. He holds his hands up like _It wasn't me._ "It was here when I woke up." 

"O-Oh," Junmyeon says, and he falls back to the couch. "It was me." 

"What?" 

"I woke up last night," Junmyeon says, "couldn't sleep." 

"Oh," Sehun says, frowning. "And the present was there?" 

"Like clockwork," Junmyeon says. "If I'm awake, it's there." 

"How bizarre," Sehun whispers. 

"I'm sorry, but... like, in what world is something like this possible, you know?" Junmyeon says. "I can't... I just can't wrap my head around it." 

"The more I think about it, the more it doesn't make any sense," Sehun says, and he follows it with a great shrug of his shoulders. "Oh well. At least you got some good presents out of it." 

"B-But what about what comes after, you know?" Junmyeon asks. 

"Who gives a shit?" Sehun says. "This guy is a fucking weirdo anyway." 

"Y-You think?" Junmyeon asks. 

"Who else drops presents off in the middle of the night?" Sehun asks. "Like, this doesn't ring untrue to you? It's all too... perfect." 

Junmyeon stares at him. The wheels in his head turn, but he doesn't find his mind going anywhere in particular. 

"What?" Sehun asks, laughing. "You still think it was me?" 

"Is it?" 

"Oh my God, enough. It wasn’t me," Sehun says, and he turns to the gift. "Aren't you curious? I'm curious." 

"Seriously, though," Junmyeon says, and he puts his hand on the gift. "None of this was you. None of it?" 

"Junmyeon, _no_ ," Sehun stresses. "W-Why are you so adamant that it's me?" 

Junmyeon bites his lip. "I don't know, I just..." 

"Just what?" Sehun asks. "D-Do you think I snuck out of your house in the middle of the night?" 

"No," Junmyeon says. "No, because—" 

"Because what?" 

"Because I... well, I might have checked on you," Junmyeon says, and when Sehun stands back, affronted, Junmyeon raises his hands helplessly. "Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do here, huh?" 

"I don't know," Sehun says, "maybe trust me?" 

"I do trust you," Junmyeon says. 

"Because staying up 'til midnight and spying on me," Sehun says with a wry smile, "that definitely says that you have total confidence in me." 

"I-I don't want to fight," Junmyeon says. "I'm just trying to understand. You get it, right? You understand?" 

Sehun sighs, hand on the countertop. "I get it." He stares at the tiles. "I'm sorry." 

"No, no, I should... I should say sorry," Junmyeon says. "I've been awful towards you." 

"No, you haven't," Sehun says. "It's fine." He raises his head with a smile, a forced one, and Junmyeon frowns at him. "Why don't you open the present? I think that would be fun." 

"Yeah?" Junmyeon says. 

"Yeah," Sehun shrugs. "Might take your mind off things." 

"Yeah, you're right," Junmyeon says. "That's a good idea." And he takes one of the folds in his hand. "You wanna help?" 

"You go on," Sehun says. "I will watch in eager anticipation." 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, but he finds himself smiling as he tears the first bit of paper away from the large box. When he first sees the word _Breville_ on the side of the gift, he knows that he is in for something incredible, but when he pulls it all away, sees the name _The Oracle_ decorating the side. 

"Holy shit, is that a coffee maker?" Sehun asks, and he gathers up the wrapping paper, crumpling it into a large ball as Junmyeon stares at the box in awe. "Jesus Christ." 

Junmyeon immediately tears into the box, unveiling probably the most beautiful piece of machinery he's ever seen in his entire life. 

"H-Holy shit," Junmyeon says, staring at Sehun as he reads the features along the back of the box. _Automation for grinding, dosing, tamping, and milk steaming, a dual boiler so that you can brew and steam at the same time, almost endless programmability_. "Holy shit." 

"This is very... this is very expensive," Sehun says, looking at his phone. "Um. Like very expensive." 

"How expensive?" Junmyeon asks warily. 

"Like several thousand wishes and prayers expensive," Sehun says. "Uh. Holy shit." 

"God," Junmyeon says, and he can feel the eager sort of excitement making his stomach drop with pleasure. "Okay, okay. I can't think about this now. It'll be all I think about." 

"And we have to get ready for work," Sehun says. "Last day." 

"A five day break," Junmyeon says wistfully. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I'm so happy!" 

"There's the Christmas spirit," Sehun says. "Only took a barista's wet dream to get you to find the joy." 

"Shut up," Junmyeon says, and Sehun throws the wrapping paper at him. "See, now I'm not gonna let you borrow my clothes." 

"See if you can stop me," Sehun grins, and he runs up Junmyeon's stairs, sifting through his closet for something big enough.  
  


❄

They walk together through the blustery Christmas Eve Eve, and Junmyeon feels extremely peppy, not even just because they stop at Last Drop before they head over to the shop.

"See," Sehun says, pointing to the overnight bins. "More donations." 

"Yeah, yeah," Junmyeon says, bouncing from the ball of one foot to the ball of the other. "I'm glad. I'm really glad." 

"Caffeine works wonders on you," Sehun says. 

"It's not just that," Junmyeon says. "I'm just... you know, I'm really happy." 

"We don't often get time off," Sehun says. "That is true." 

"Several days," Junmyeon says dreamily. "Several days when I don't have to open or close or answer an email or sign anything or schedule a shipment. How lovely does that sound." 

"Absolutely marvelous," Sehun says, flatly, and he gestures to the bin as he holds the door open. "Can you help me get that inside?" 

Junmyeon rolls the bin in on the back wheels, whistling as he works, and he hears Sehun's little huff, turning around to see him smile. 

"See," Junmyeon says, pointing at him. "I know you're happy too." 

"It's very hard not to be happy when you're so happy," Sehun says, and Junmyeon's stomach twists into a gigantic knot.

He ignores it, ignores it the way he always does. He wonders how many times over the years he's ignored it without even thinking, something so second-nature to him now that he'd forgotten he was even hiding these things away. Everything is being unlocked, everything falling away, and God, it feels so good. 

They work, they work together, and Junmyeon finds himself humming. He has never felt better about Christmas, and that's definitely saying something.  
  


❄

It is a long day, but tonight, Junmyeon tells himself, they'll rest with the knowledge that they are off for a while, not just for the morning or one or the other. Both of them at the same time. In truth, Junmyeon likes going to the bookstore everyday. There's something satisfying and comforting about it, something nice. He doesn't think he would appreciate any other job, but this one, he's all right with it.

"Do you feel that way too?" Junmyeon wonders. "Like, it's not so bad?" 

"If I didn't feel that way, would I have moved here?" Sehun laughs, and he bumps his shoulder into Junmyeon's as they walk back to Junmyeon's house. 

Some of the sidewalks have patches of ice, so he makes sure not to step on them as they go, confident that if he fell again, he would never hear the end of it. 

"Sometimes I feel like I should give you more time off," Junmyeon says. "Maybe hire some more people." 

Sehun shrugs. "I don’t mind, but you're CEO. Up to you." 

"Oh, shut up," Junmyeon says. "This is a collaborative effort." 

Sehun smiles at him, sparkling under the lights. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah, of course," Junmyeon says, and his heart leaps inside him as he says, "You know how much you mean to me, right?" 

Sehun looks away, moves his hands in his pockets. 

"I figured as much," Sehun says. 

Junmyeon wants to keep going, wants to tell him what an integral part of the business he is, what an integral part of Junmyeon's _life_ he is, but he loses the confidence somewhere between the sidewalk and the front step. Is that why it's taken so long for Sehun to make a move on him? Because it's so very scary to put yourself out there if it's someone you love with all your heart?

He remembers Minseok's words suddenly as he unlocks the door, the notion that he didn't love Minseok the way Minseok loved him. Was it true? Was he just looking for something not so terrifying? Something easy and fun so that he didn't have to get hurt? 

And he got hurt along the way anyway. Every break-up was awful, every time he had to step away for one reason or another... it always broke him apart. Always tore him up. 

What would happen if Sehun did that to him? 

He read a book once about a character who was hungry for love, wanting with their whole self to be full of it, just once. So full that they couldn't take anymore. 

That's who he was. That's always been who he was. Wanting, wanting so much. He didn't know, he couldn't see. Sehun has held back. Waited. Junmyeon doesn't want him to wait anymore. Junmyeon wants to take it now. Wants all of it, even if it hurts him. Even if it hurts like hell. 

"We should get you something to eat," Sehun says, and he brushes past Junmyeon into the kitchen, totally ignoring that he also needs something to eat. 

"God, I'm so tired," Junmyeon says, flopping down onto the couch. "I don't wanna cook. We should have just ordered something. Picked something up." 

"You have ramen?" Sehun asks, and he stretches up, checking one of Junmyeon's cupboards. "Ah. Here we go." 

So instead of ordering or picking something up, Junmyeon gets up and makes them ramen, boiling away on the stove as they find something to watch on the television. They're replaying the Charlie Brown Christmas special, and while Sehun rolls his eyes, he keeps it on. They slurp from their bowls noisily, and they watch happily. 

They finish their simple little dinner, and Sehun starts to gather his things. Junmyeon finds himself wanting to stop him, halt him from leaving if only for a moment, so he does what he normally does. He asks Sehun to do something for him. 

"C-Can you do me a big favor?" Junmyeon asks. 

"Whatever you need," Sehun says. 

"I ordered some dessert platters... for the party?" Junmyeon asks. "Would you be able to pick them up in the morning?" 

"Of course," Sehun smiles, soft and sweet. "I know you'll have your hands full, scrubbing this place to a sparkling finish." 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes. "I do appreciate it." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sehun says. "Don't stay up too late on your phone, okay? Santa won't come if you don't sleep." 

"That's _on_ Christmas," Junmyeon informs him. 

"You're also thirty years old," Sehun laughs. "You big baby." 

Junmyeon pushes him with a grin. "Who are you calling a baby, you baby?" 

"You," Sehun says, and he pushes Junmyeon back. " _Baby._ " 

It is too teasing to be anything but a joke, but Junmyeon lets his mind wander in those infinitesimal chopped-up moments, letting himself think of Sehun maybe calling him baby and it not being the punchline to a joke. His stomach twists inside him, and he thinks, no matter what, something will have to happen about this. He's gotta do _something_. 

"What's wrong?" Sehun asks. 

"Nothing," Junmyeon says. "Stomach just hurts a little bit." 

"Get to bed," Sehun says. "Big day tomorrow." 

"Yeah," Junmyeon says with a smile. "Just nerves, I guess." 

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Sehun smiles. 

"Yeah, I guess not," Junmyeon lies, and they say their goodbyes. 

Junmyeon shuts the door, watches from the window as Sehun shoves his hands into his pockets and walks down the sidewalk towards home. Everything will change tomorrow night, no matter who is behind all of this. He doesn't want anyone besides Sehun. This, he finally knows for a fact. Junmyeon likes Sehun, _might love_ him even, and it's been so fucking long, so much waiting and wriggling around. 

Tomorrow, it is finally time to put things to rest. It's finally time to come clean. It's finally time to step into this new world. The world they made together with their bare hands.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only two more chapters! i hope you're having a good week :^) thanks for reading!


	12. december 24th: the twelfth day

  
  


❄

Junmyeon frets all morning as he cleans the house, wiping down the countertops, vacuuming, and scrubbing the floors on his hands and knees as if it will matter to any of his heathen friends. Even the thought of them brings a smile to his face. His annual Christmas Eve party always brings out the best in him. This is his favorite time of the year, after all.

He’s been so hung up on the twelve days of Christmas that he completely forgot to enjoy things as they were happening. He promises himself that he will forget all that stuff for the night and truly embrace the spirit of Christmas. He checks off items on his to-do list, checking it twice, and he dances around his kitchen as he and Whitney duet on _Do You Hear What I Hear?_ , the pair of them singing loud enough to shake the very foundations of the house. 

Sehun swings by in the mid-morning with the dessert trays after Junmyeon has finished his concert, and Junmyeon opens the door with a smile. 

“Hi, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Junmyeon says, peering over the stacked trays. “Merry Christmas Eve, by the way.” 

“Merry Christmas Eve to you too,” Sehun says, grimacing as he struggles under the weight. “Help me, please.” 

Junmyeon laughs as he takes the top tray from Sehun’s hands, and together, they head into the kitchen. 

“Wow,” Sehun says, “it really looks nice in here, Cinderella.” 

“Well, I’ve only been working since the clock struck twelve or whatever,” Junmyeon says, and they walk into the kitchen, placing the trays filled with miniature eclairs, cannolis, petits fours, fruit tarts, and cream puffs onto the countertop. “God, these look so good.” 

“Hey, by the way,” Sehun says, and as Junmyeon turns to face him, Sehun gestures with a small box, wrapped in the familiar color. He tosses it into Junmyeon’s hands. “I found it on your step.” 

“Oh, Jesus, I forgot,” Junmyeon says, furrowing his brow as he stares at the present. “I’ve had kind of a weird morning.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks. He tilts his head to the side. “Anything I can do?” 

“No, no, this is more than enough.” He plays with the wrapping paper, nail flipping the tape up and down. “Jesus, I’m exhausted.” 

“I bet,” Sehun says. “All right, I gotta go run an errand real quick, but seriously, if there’s anything else I can do, just let me know. And I’ll come by around four-fifteen, four-thirty just to see if you need a hand with last minute stuff?” 

“Okay, sounds good,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun walks off as Junmyeon balls the wrapping paper up.

He cracks open the ring box to reveal a small piece of golden paper and beneath it, a simple white gold ring. 

_He’s been waiting for you._

_Of course, the thing you need most is always the last place you look._

_Sehun_

Junmyeon gasps, the shock filtering through him like gasoline. The ring box clatters to the floor.

Sehun turns back to him, hand braced on the archway, face melting into total confusion. Junmyeon stares at him as if seeing him for the first time. He walks forward, closing the distance between them easily. 

“What?” Sehun asks. “What is it?” He looks behind Junmyeon, and he sees the box. “H-Holy shit, a ring?” He nods towards the piece of paper in Junmyeon’s hand. “What does it say?” 

“It says that you’ve been waiting,” Junmyeon says. “That you’ve been waiting for years.” 

“W-What are you talking about?” Sehun says, and he makes a grab for the tag. Junmyeon clutches it close to his chest so that Sehun can’t take it from him. “Junmyeon. What is going on?” 

“It’s been you this whole time?” 

“What? No!” 

“You lied to me,” Junmyeon says. “Over and over again, twice, no, three times. I asked you point blank, and you lied.” 

“I didn’t,” Sehun says. “I would never lie to you.” 

“Then explain why this says it’s you,” Junmyeon says. “Why it says it’s all been about you. Your name, right there. The last place I look? What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, mouth agape. “I don’t know, it—”

“It what?” 

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” Sehun says. “I swear, I… I didn’t do anything, I just—”

“Just _what_ , Sehun?” 

“Just… just, I don’t know,” Sehun says, hands in his hair. “It wasn’t me, I swear to God, Junmyeon, I wouldn’t lie to you, I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have put you through all this.” 

“Then what else could it be? I don’t understand,” Junmyeon says, and he shows him the tag, his name emblazoned across it. “Why would it have your name right here if it wasn’t you?” 

“I-I don’t fucking know! If it was me, why wouldn’t I have owned up to it by now?” Sehun asks. “W-Wouldn’t this have been the grand reveal? Instead you’re fucking yelling at me.” 

“Because you lied to me!” 

“I didn’t lie!” Sehun says. “It wasn’t me!” 

“Then who was it?” Junmyeon asks. “Because it definitely wasn’t anyone else. Did you hire someone? People? Was everyone in on it the whole time?” 

“Come on, are you serious?” Sehun says. “Just, please, Junmyeon. Come on…” 

“Just say it,” Junmyeon says. “I would appreciate it more if you actually came clean. I would understand. _Please_.” 

Sehun lowers his head, scrubbing a hand across his face. 

“Listen, I—Junmyeon, I have to tell you something.” 

Junmyeon breathes out, and his mouth goes completely dry as he stares at Sehun, the pink of his lips, his cheeks, his nose. The way his scarf is wrapped around his neck. The way his hands clench. 

“Tell me,” Junmyeon says. “Please.” 

“I love you, okay?” Sehun says. “I… I really do. I think I’ve always—well, it doesn’t matter now. B-But my point is that, even though I love you, even though I love you with my whole fucking heart and I should have told you before now… you have to believe me. I didn’t do this.” 

Junmyeon shakes his head. “I don’t get it.” 

“Neither do I.” 

“No, I don’t get why you keep holding onto this,” Junmyeon says. “You’ve already told me the more important part. Why are you being such an idiot about this?” 

Sehun knits his brows together. “Oh, I’m being an idiot? First, I’m a liar. Now, I’m an idiot.” 

Immediately, Junmyeon realizes that he’s misspoken, hurting the person he most wanted to protect. 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t—Sehun,” Junmyeon says. “Aren’t we past all this?” 

“I thought you trusted me,” Sehun says. 

“I do.” 

“Not enough to trust me on this,” Sehun says. “I had nothing to do with any of this.” 

“H-How could I believe you now?” Junmyeon asks, and he waves his arms. “I mean, this is insane.” 

“Yeah, it really is,” Sehun says, and he turns his back on Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon is forced to chase after him, moving through the house. 

“W-Wait, wait,” Junmyeon says. “Please, we haven’t—”

Sehun pauses by the door. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll let you get back to work.” He gives a look back over his shoulder. “Have fun tonight, okay?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Y-You’re not coming?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says with a laugh, and he turns back to face Junmyeon. “I just told you I loved you, and you’re more concerned with some… some fucking Christmas thing. With telling me what you think you know.” 

“Sehun, please. You have to come tonight, it wouldn’t be the same without you,” Junmyeon says. “Please, I—” 

“Couldn’t do it without me?” Sehun asks, and he rolls his eyes. “Sometimes I need a little bit more than just, you know, being _needed_. Sometimes I need a little bit of trust.”

Sehun leaves without another word, and Junmyeon slumps against the wall, rocked by what’s just occurred, what he’s just played a vital part in. 

Why didn’t he say anything nice? Why wasn’t he kinder? 

Doesn’t he love Sehun? Hadn’t he come to terms with it? And now— 

Junmyeon sits there for much too long, but when he kicks his ass back into gear, swallowing over the anxiety and fear rising up inside him, he goes back out to the kitchen to see the ring box lying there on the freshly washed floor. 

He picks it up, and he tries the simple band of braided white gold on his finger. It fits perfectly, almost as if it was made specifically for him. The more he sees it on, the more he likes it. It’s just one of those things, he supposes. You never really know how much you like something until you’ve tried it.  
  


❄

The people arrive, and Junmyeon puts on his best host facade as the house becomes raucous with the sound of merrymaking. Beer, wine, and liquor flow, music flutters through the house, there is indulgence of all kinds, the food, the gift-giving, the very many embraces, and yet—

He aches. All over. His whole body aches. He tries to hold up his end of the conversations, but he doesn't think he manages. 

Junmyeon goes out back to get a bit of respite, and he hears the glass door slide open. He turns, hoping, but it’s just Chanyeol. 

“Wow, thanks for that look of complete and utter disappointment,” Chanyeol says. “As if I don’t get that enough from my own parents.” 

“You’re a lawyer, stuff it,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his arms over his chest as he looks back out to the dark night. 

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” Chanyeol asks. He stands next to Junmyeon, bumping his shoulder into Junmyeon’s. “You look like you could throw up.” 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says softly. 

“Ah, I had to admit, I did notice his very large absence.” 

And what an absence it was. It felt like there was a hole inside him so big it was swallowing everything up, so hungry, so ravenous.

“I ruined… I ruined my relationship with him, I think,” Junmyeon whispers. “Like, once and for all..” 

And Chanyeol just laughs. 

“What?” Junmyeon says, and he punches Chanyeol in the arm. “I’m sad. It’s not funny.” 

“It is funny,” Chanyeol says. “You think you could ruin your chances with him. That’s fucking hilarious to me.” 

“I’m serious,” Junmyeon says. “I… He told me he loved me, and I didn’t even acknowledge it.” 

“Well, what the fuck did you do that for?” 

“I-I don’t know! I’m going crazy, I think.” 

“Do you like him?” Chanyeol asks. “Because, like, not to spoil the plot or anything, but he’s liked you for the entire length of the film, ya fucking Manic Pixie Dream Girl.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll kill you.” 

“And then you’ll listen to the Smiths while you embroider curse words onto doilies or whatever,” Chanyeol smiles. “You’re so edgy and cool and twee.” 

Junmyeon reels back and punches Chanyeol as hard as he can manage, and it sends Chanyeol flying backwards in a fit of laughter. For a moment, it almost makes Junmyeon feel better. 

Chanyeol puts his arm around Junmyeon’s neck, and Junmyeon holds him around the waist. He is thankful for this old comfort, one that is not entirely lost to him. He turns into Chanyeol, and Chanyeol turns into him. 

“I think I love him,” Junmyeon says into Chanyeol’s jacket. “I’m gonna die. I love him. Do you hate me? I’d understand if you hated me.” 

“Listen, I don’t hate you. Like, I already knew,” Chanyeol says. “And so did everyone else.” Junmyeon looks up at him, his sparkly eyes. “We were all kinda just waiting for you to figure it out.” 

“Really?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Why do you think me and you were such a mess every single time we got back together?” Chanyeol laughs. “You didn’t even _realize_ you had a crush on my best friend. Imagine the fuckin’ inferiority complex I had.” 

“ _Had_ , not _have_?” Junmyeon asks, and Chanyeol crushes him in a hug. 

And then suddenly, as they are standing there in the cold, Junmyeon’s heart jumps as he hears the sliding glass door move once more. They both turn to see Sehun standing there, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, the scarf Junmyeon bought him wrapped around his neck. 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks drily. 

“Nope!” Chanyeol says too loudly, and he withdraws from the embrace with a quickness that Junmyeon has never previously experienced. He walks back towards the door, patting Sehun on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

The pair of them, Junmyeon and Sehun, watch as Chanyeol heads back inside, raising his arms as he reenters the thrall of their friends, excitedly cheering and raising hell upon his return. 

“You came,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun shrugs. “I mean, what else am I gonna do? Be petty?” 

“Yeah. You could have done that,” Junmyeon says. “Thank you. Seriously.” 

Sehun walks over to him silently, softly, feet barely making sound on the stone of the back patio. They stand there for several seconds, and Junmyeon knows that he has to start at some point, but he just doesn’t know how. He reaches out to take Sehun’s hand in his, and Sehun lets him. That, he thinks. That is as good a start as any. 

“I… I wanted to apologize,” Junmyeon says. “For not trusting you.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks, and he squeezes Junmyeon’s hand in his. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “I… I honestly don’t understand how this all happened, but—it doesn’t matter now. The important part is that I don’t lose you.” He sniffs, all the cold lancing into his lungs. “If you say it wasn’t you, t-then I believe you. No matter what. I trust you. I do. And I don’t wanna lose you. That’s… that’s most important to me.” 

Sehun sighs. Gives Junmyeon’s hand another squeeze. 

“You won’t lose me,” Sehun says. “I understand.” 

“I don’t think you do,” Junmyeon says, and he slowly withdraws his hand, turns to face Sehun. “I, uh… I love you, okay?” He looks down, bringing his hands together as he plays with his fingernails nervously. “A-And I guess I should have figured it out before this very moment since we’ve known each other for so long, but you know, I’ve always been kind of a late bloomer, or at least that’s what my mom told me, I did everything a little bit later than everyone else, so this should be no different, right? So how can you or anyone else really blame me fo—” 

“Junmyeon,” Sehun says, and when Junmyeon looks up at him, his eyes are watering. “Do you really?” 

“O-Of course. Of course I do,” Junmyeon says. “Of _course._ A-And now that I’ve said it, it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.” 

Sehun makes a noise, a shocked, wounded sound, and it is then that Junmyeon knows he must act. Time is fleeting, and he must do something about this. Finally. Finally. 

He raises himself up onto his toes as he cups Sehun’s face in his hands. The moment is fragile but beautiful, like blown glass or ice on the lake. Sehun’s hands go to his waist as Junmyeon gently presses their lips together for the first time but not even close to the last. 

Junmyeon breathes out slowly, and when Sehun takes him by the neck, it feels like they should have been doing this for a long, long time. Junmyeon leans into the warmth of Sehun’s body as they deepen the kiss. As the love stretches thin and long, spun sugar, braided ropes of it fastening together. 

Junmyeon would rather never break the kiss, would rather stand here sharing breath until the end of time itself, but Sehun strokes his hand across Junmyeon’s cheek when it ends and it feels so fucking tender that he might cry. Truthfully, he thinks he might feel more relieved than anything else, like he has finally breathed out after holding it in for so long. 

He’ll have this for a long time, he tells himself. A very long time. 

“God,” Sehun says, and he brushes his thumb against Junmyeon’s lower lip, “this feels like a dream.” 

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe you didn’t tell me beforehand,” Junmyeon says. 

“I wanted to wait,” Sehun says, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I waited all that time, and I never said what I wanted to say because I thought—I don’t know, Junmyeon, I thought… if you loved me, you would have said something. You’d never had a problem taking what you wanted before so I just thought—” 

“Why didn’t _you_ say?” Junmyeon asks. “W-Why—” 

“How could I have?” Sehun asks. “When all that time, all you wanted was to travel. See things. Meet new people. You went back and forth with Chanyeol for so long, you met other people, you loved them, and I just… I never had the opportunity.” 

“You could have had the opportunity,” Junmyeon says defiantly. 

Sehun laughs. “I think half the reason I fell in love with you was because of the way you made it look so good,” he says. “To be in love.” 

“I… I never knew,” Junmyeon says, soft. Sweet. 

“Really?” Sehun looks sheepish, a hand on the back of his neck. “Everyone told me that it was obvious. That _I_ was obvious.” 

“I… Sehun, I just—”

“What?” 

“I wish you had told me earlier,” Junmyeon confesses. “I wish that I had known.” 

“I wanted—ah, no, it’s too embarrassing,” Sehun laughs. 

“What? Tell me!” Junmyeon says, and he tugs on the sleeve of Sehun’s coat before looking up at him through his lashes. “Please?” 

“God, you’re the worst,” Sehun laughs. “I just… I was so worried that you would tell me something I didn’t wanna hear. So I guess I just never said anything at all, hoping to put that off for as long as possible.” 

“When did you know?” 

“That I loved you?” Sehun asks, and when Junmyeon nods, “Since we met.” 

“Shut up.” 

“What? I’m serious.”

“You did not love me the moment we met,” Junmyeon says, “because we met—”

“When you and Chanyeol came back for Thanksgiving that year,” Sehun says. “I remember. We had our party, he was introducing all of us to his new boyfriend, and I had this realization as I was drinking that shitty beer, this realization that—God, that I loved you and that I was completely fucked.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, “you… are you serious?” 

“Why would I not be?” Sehun asks. “He talked about you so much, and at first, I was just excited to meet you, but when I saw you… when we drank that night, I just—it sounds so stupid, but everything seemed to narrow. I could only see you. You were funny, smart, so nice, and I just—I just loved you. Immediately. 

Junmyeon’s throat goes dry as he stares at Sehun, ripped open and ripped apart just so Junmyeon can look inside. 

“That Christmas,” Sehun continues, “I watched you guys together at the Christmas party, and I was like— _God_ , what kind of person am I? He was my best friend, and I was looking at you, like, thinking of ways that I could have you. Take you away from him.” He shakes his head. “A-And I went outside, and it was snowing. So I just stood there and thought, _I hope I can be patient. I hope that we end up together, but I hope that I can wait for the day when it’s right. For both of us._ ” He shrugs his shoulders. “So I made a deal that night, like, a wish or something. I told myself that I would wait until you were ready. I told myself I’d wait as long as I needed to.” 

“You would have kept on waiting?” Junmyeon wonders. 

Sehun smiles. “I think so.” 

“Why?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I guess that’s just how I love you.” 

Junmyeon makes a soft sound as he steps towards him, and Sehun takes a step back. 

“Where are you going?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Giving you space,” Sehun says. “Just in case you, you know, need time to process this.” 

“Space is the last thing I need right now,” Junmyeon says, and he tugs Sehun back into another kiss. 

It is fierce and passionate, lovely in all ways an embrace can be. As Sehun licks into Junmyeon’s mouth, he moans softly, growing in ardor as it extends well past decent. Junmyeon is overcome with emotion, with excitement and joy. His heart is so fucking full it feels like he could burst. Everything shattered out of him in red and gold. 

“S-Sehun,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun presses kisses across Junmyeon’s face. 

“You’re right,” Sehun says, and he tugs Junmyeon’s jacket back into place. “We should come back to this later, huh?” 

Junmyeon swallows the implication like the sweetest medicine, and Sehun rests his forehead against Junmyeon’s, snaking a hand down his back. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, the words whispered in white in the middle of the cold December evening. “Later sounds good.” 

They turn back to the house hand in hand, and Junmyeon decides that, no matter how corny or cheesy or cringey it might sound to anyone else, love really has always been the greatest gift of all.  
  


❄


	13. december 25th: their first day

  
  


❄

The party rages on into the night, as all good parties do. Alcohol floods them all, and he watches as Baekhyun and Jongdae bicker back and forth about Marvel movies, Chanyeol butting in to add his two cents. Sehun shoots Junmyeon a look like _shouldn't someone put a stop to this_ , but Junmyeon figures that it's Christmas and Jameson is involved. There is only so much he can do. They’re only human.

Junmyeon, for his part, sips at his glass of wine slowly. He knows what waits for him at the end of the night, and he wants to enjoy it to the fullest. So while the rest of them tell stories, reminisce, make jokes, toss their glasses back, Junmyeon sits and watches Sehun, mouth going dry whenever he finds Sehun watching back. 

It is late when everyone finally heads home, designated drivers at the wheel, and Junmyeon stares at the mess they've made. 

"Hey." 

Junmyeon turns, and he sees Sehun leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen. He goes hot all over. 

"Merry Christmas," Junmyeon whispers. 

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Merry Christmas." 

"I, um, I should clean," Junmyeon says, suddenly so shy, turning to the sink and busying himself with dishes. 

He feels Sehun approach, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up straight as Sehun leans against him, body against body. 

"Leave it here," Sehun whispers, and he presses a soft kiss to the nape of Junmyeon's neck, hands on his waist. "We'll clean up tomorrow. Tonight, we should..." 

"Yeah," Junmyeon whispers, and he cranes his neck to the side so that Sehun will kiss along it. Just as quickly as the nerves came, they've subsided. He doesn't know what he was anxious about. This has always been there under the surface. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's go. Wherever." 

"Can I take you home with me?" Sehun asks, mouth along Junmyeon's neck. 

"Yes," Junmyeon whispers. "Yes, please." 

“I’ve wanted to say that for a very long time,” Sehun says. “And I wanted to hear you say that. _Yes._ ” 

“Yes,” Junmyeon repeats. “Yes.” 

And so the dishes wait. The mess waits. Everything waits, waits for them. Everything but _yes_. 

The cold bites along whatever bare skin it can find, a sobering feeling as they walk the short distance to Sehun's. Junmyeon wonders, wonders, wonders. He's been in Sehun's bedroom before, but will it look different under the haze of love? Will it feel different, more inviting, more romantic, more charged? The electricity lingering in the air above them? 

Sehun opens the door to a dark house, and he does not bother to turn on any lights. They take off their coats, toe out of their shoes, and he pulls Junmyeon to the stairs by the hand, Junmyeon eager to follow. 

"We don't have to, you know," Sehun says, as they reach the landing, heading down the hall to Sehun's bedroom. "We could just—" 

"I think we have to," Junmyeon says, and he leads the way to the room, pushing the door open and flopping down onto Sehun's bed. "I think we definitely, definitely have to." 

"You look... very nice," Sehun says. 

Junmyeon leans up on his elbows. "Nice?" 

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Pretty." 

"It's been a decade and that's all you can muster up?" Junmyeon prods. "Nice? Pretty?" 

Sehun stands there for another second, one more, and then he gets onto the bed next to Junmyeon. They kiss like that, lying on their sides, and Junmyeon sighs against Sehun, rocking his body into Sehun's. Sehun moans into Junmyeon's mouth, and Junmyeon swallows it easily, hungrily. 

He gasps as Sehun rolls him onto his back, hands skimming over Junmyeon's clothes. Has he thought about this often? Junmyeon thinks he must have, because everything is so purposeful, so well-tailored, like he's been practicing this in his sleep. Like he wanted to be ready to please Junmyeon whenever the call came. 

The call is coming now, Junmyeon thinks, throwing his head back as Sehun begins to peel him out of his clothes, lips against Junmyeon's throat. It's coming. And he will call out as loud as necessary. 

"You're so beautiful," Sehun says, and the words sound so loud even when they're so hushed. 

"Touch me more," Junmyeon whispers. "Please." 

That's how Sehun strips him naked, Junmyeon writhing against him, making the work twice as difficult. The heat in the room seems to billow out in waves, drowning Junmyeon in it, crashing down on him and splashing between them wetly. When Junmyeon stares up at Sehun, he sees him sparkling, glimmering in the moonlight, and Junmyeon raises his hands to work as if to say _You too. I want to see you too._

Sehun pulls the shirt from over his head, and Junmyeon's breath is stolen from him. He's looked before, but he's never seen. Heard, but never listened. Now nothing is louder, brighter. Love is the loudest and brightest thing of all. 

He sits up, abdomen tense as he works at Sehun's buckle, and he works the zipper down carefully. Various states of undress over the years, and absolutely nothing could have prepared him for this, for something so fraught with arousal, so sick with sweetness that he can't take another drop, throat so dry and desperate that all he can do is call for water, water, water. 

Shoving the last pieces of fabric down their bodies, they come together again in the pale white light, love dripping down them as they kiss. 

He could not be happier, but it's hard to remember joy when he's so wrapped up in his own arousal, head dizzy with possibilities, the many different ways this could play out. He had not thought that this was even a possibility, and yet... and yet here they are. Ready for each other in the basest and most instinctual ways. 

Junmyeon spreads his legs on the bed, cradles Sehun within the valley of his body, and wraps him tightly in love. Sehun moans softly against him as they grind into each other, soft and eager, but slow. There is so much time. They are in no rush. Not when they have forever. 

Whispered words, quiet as the night breaks dark and lovely through the windows, flutter between them, and Junmyeon gasps when he feels Sehun's fingers between his legs, wet and teasing. His body bows as Sehun pushes them inside easily, and his moan rattles out of his chest slowly. 

"O-Oh my God," Junmyeon whispers, hand covering his face. "Oh my God, Sehun..." 

"Is that okay?" Sehun asks. "Does it feel good?" 

"More," Junmyeon whispers, and he snakes his hand down to hold himself around the base of his cock. "Please, more." 

And Sehun gives him whatever he asks for, just as he always has. He twists his fingers inside Junmyeon's body, spidering pleasure through him as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Junmyeon groans as he gives himself over to it, the gentle manipulation, the lovely ministrations. He cries out, reaching for Sehun when he can't take it any longer, when it’s too much and he’s too fucking ready.

"What?" Sehun asks. "Are you okay?" 

"Come on," Junmyeon says. "Inside me." 

Sehun prepares himself, staring down at Junmyeon as he tears the foil, rolling the condom on. He bites his lip as he lowers himself down, his body along Junmyeon's, spreading them out flat. It is so hard not to immediately wrap himself around Sehun, taking him in as quickly as possible. Sehun brushes against him, and they duet, their notes of ecstasy harmonious as he finally pushes inside. Junmyeon holds onto Sehun's shoulder so hard he thinks he might accidentally bruise Sehun as he comes in inch by inch, impossibly slow. He welcomes him in, their bodies joined in the most sinful, joyful dance, and God, how did they wait? 

"You feel so good," Sehun whispers, his breath coming hard and harsh against Junmyeon's skin. 

Junmyeon squeezes him tightly in his arms, wraps his legs around him. Now that they're here, he can't imagine ever letting him go. 

"I want to keep you here forever," Junmyeon whispers, pressing kisses to the side of Sehun's face, tasting the sweat. "I don't ever want to do this with anyone else." 

Sehun moans brokenly like he's been waiting to hear those words, and Junmyeon smiles, brings his hands to Sehun's hair. _Yes_ , he thinks, _tell me all the words you want to hear me say. I will say them._

He kisses him, licking away the noises, bodies tight and close. When Sehun pulls back to thrust into him, Junmyeon kisses him harder, so hard he can barely hear the sound of the bed creaking, rocking under their weight. 

"I love you," Junmyeon says desperately, everything bursting inside him, full of light and melody, "I love you so much. God. I love you." 

"I love you," Sehun whispers, and he fucks him slow, hard, purposeful and strung tight. 

They are holding themselves back, shoving away the recklessness that builds at the base of their necks. There is a kind of delicious tension in their sex, and Junmyeon puts his nails into Sehun's skin as he tries to keep this rapture from staggering ever nearer. 

"I can't," Junmyeon whispers, holding Sehun so close that he doesn't think he could possibly get him any closer. "I can't." 

"Can't what?" Sehun asks, fucking into him, teeth gritted as he holds back just as tightly, fingers clutching at the rope as it slips away from them. 

"I can't hold back," Junmyeon says, the sound emerging from him musical and fleeting. "I _can't_. Sehun." 

"You can come," Sehun whispers. "I wanna see you come." 

Junmyeon closes his eyes shut so hard that it looks like snow clouding his vision, dancing through the room on careless gales. Sehun thrusts into him harder, faster, more rhythmic, and Junmyeon cannot... cannot wait any longer. He is so undone. All parts of him spiraling. 

He comes as Sehun kisses him, moaning as he writhes in Sehun's bed, innumerable joys, unnameable pleasures dipping and draping across him, love so soft and yet so hard, teeming with newness and with anthemic noise. 

Sehun follows him, and Junmyeon holds him closely as he spills. He wants to commit it all to memory. Wants to bathe in moments like these. It is so kind, so gentle, so fierce that it defies explanation. Waiting. Yearning. These things are quiet, yet ferocious. 

"G-God," Sehun whispers, and he kisses Junmyeon's lips before hugging him once more. "Thank you." Junmyeon pulls him back by the ear, and Sehun looks into his eyes, bewildered. "What?"

"Don't say thank you," Junmyeon says. "Never thank me after sex again." 

"What if it's a gift?" Sehun asks. "What if it's for my birthday?" 

"Expecting to get sex on your birthday?" Junmyeon asks, raising a brow. "Planning months in advance now, are we?" 

Sehun shrugs happily. "Never hurts to put the thought in someone's head early. You know. Inception." 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes as he pushes Sehun off to the side, slipping out of him easily. He groans, pulls Sehun's arm into his arms so he can cuddle against him. 

“Give me one second, okay?” 

“Why?” Junmyeon asks. “Traditionally, this is when spooning occurs.” 

"It will, I'll be right back," Sehun says, and Junmyeon watches him bounce out of the room with the used condom, naked and adorable. 

Junmyeon adjusts himself on the bed for a moment as he lays there and thinks. Thinks. A moment more. It is fucking ridiculous, but the first thing he can think to do is begin to snoop around a little. And who could blame him? 

Junmyeon sits up and fiddles with things at Sehun's bedside table. Books with dog-eared pages, a set of headphones that have been coiled up, a small bottle of hand lotion... Junmyeon will tease him about that later on. 

It doesn't take long for him to find something of actual interest as he sifts through items in a letterbox. Old report cards, old pieces of artwork, pages that have been torn from books, riddled with highlighter and pen, the top-middles stuck cleanly with pinholes... Junmyeon takes personal offense to that. 

But there, at the very bottom of the box, is a letter, the envelope yellowed and wrinkled with time. 

The letter, interestingly enough, is addressed to him. 

Junmyeon sets the letterbox down to the floor, and he takes the letter in his hands. He waffles over whether or not to open it. He's already breached Sehun's privacy, but in his experience, relationships are built on a little of that. He keeps it in his hand, fiddling with the seal when Sehun reenters the room. 

"Why do you have that look on your face?" Sehun asks, hands on his hips. 

"What look?" Junmyeon asks. "I don't have a look." 

"You look like you were snooping through my things," Sehun laughs, and he heads back to the bed, Junmyeon's stomach tossing and turning with arousal as he watches Sehun's muscles tense and flex. "It's fine. I don't really have anything to hide from you. Well, not anymore." 

"No, not even this?" Junmyeon asks, and he whips the letter out of the envelope, hanging it over Sehun's head. "Secret letter?" 

“Secret letter?” Sehun asks, and he takes the piece of paper from Junmyeon's hand to give it a quick read. “Oh God. No." 

“What?” 

“This stupid thing,” Sehun laughs, slapping himself in the forehead. “I wrote this when you and Chanyeol broke up the first time. I was gonna confess to you.” 

“Y-You were?” Junmyeon asks, attempting to snatch it back. “With a letter?” 

“I know. Cowardly, isn’t it?” 

“Give me that back,” Junmyeon says, and as his eyes scan over the letter, he is flooded with more and more confusion. “I find this challenging.” 

“What’s so challenging about it?” Sehun says. “Because it's so pathetic? Believe me, I know it’s pathetic. No need to inform me now. I am drenched in shame.” 

“All the lines from the tags,” Junmyeon says, “they’re all from this letter. E-Even the Austen quote.” 

“W-Wait, really?” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” Junmyeon asks, narrowing his eyes. "This seems definitive. This seems like proof." 

“I will kill you,” Sehun says. “How many times do I have to say?” 

"You wrote the quotes!" 

"I didn't even remember I had this," Sehun laughs. "I mean, all the stuff in that box... that's stuff my mom sent me off to college with. I put this in the bottom of the box, like, ten years ago and haven't touched it since." 

Junmyeon looks at him, looks deeply into his eyes. He is telling the truth, of course. Either that, or he's a complete sociopath and Junmyeon will end up chopped up in the bathtub. One or the other. 

“I just want to figure this thing out once and for all,” Junmyeon huffs, and he falls back to the bed and into Sehun's arms. 

“Maybe it was magic like you said,” Sehun says, cuddling Junmyeon close. 

“You think?” 

Sehun shrugs his shoulders. 

“It’s funny because.. you know _this_?” Sehun says, and he takes Junmyeon’s hand in his, flipping it to the side and playing with the band of gold. “I saw this ring in the store the other day and I thought _if Junmyeon and I ever got engaged, that’s the kind of ring I would get for him_.” 

“Really?” Junmyeon asks. 

"Yeah," Sehun says. "But it was so expensive. I couldn't afford it." He laughs. "Even if I _could_ afford it, I wouldn't buy you an engagement ring before I even told you how I felt. Before you had a chance to give your opinion on the ring. God, you’re so picky." 

"Shut _up_ ,” Junmyeon screeches, punching Sehun in the chest before holding his hand up into the air above them. "So what do I call this, then? A promise ring?" 

"Aren't they usually about virginity?" Sehun asks. "We're kinda past the point of no return in that regard." 

Junmyeon reaches over and slaps Sehun on the stomach with the flat of his hand, and Sehun cackles. 

"S-So maybe a promise of something else," Junmyeon says. "If not a promise of purity, a promise that someday, maybe... you'll, um, you'll ask me for real." 

"Okay," Sehun says. "I can't guarantee I'll have a better ring than that." 

"I'll like whatever ring you get me," Junmyeon says. 

"This is the old pillowcase versus the Lexus thing again," Sehun says, and he suddenly lifts himself up out of the bed. "Here." 

"What?" Junmyeon asks, "where are you going?" 

He watches with great interest as Sehun digs around in his sock drawer. Sehun turns back around with two thin, square, shoddily wrapped presents, both enveloped in identical wrapping paper made to look like bookshelves. 

"No, it's not Christmas yet," Junmyeon says. 

"Technically," Sehun says, and he slips the gifts into Junmyeon's lap before climbing back into bed next to him, "it has been Christmas for hours." 

"Your present is at the house," Junmyeon says. 

Sehun shrugs, nodding towards the gifts. "Open that top one first." 

Junmyeon does as he's told, gingerly unwrapping a picture frame. He turns it around in his hands and looks at the picture that's been memorialized inside the tastefully thin black frame. Junmyeon immediately recognizes it to be a picture from the very first Christmas Eve party that he ever held, his brand new house, the walls still a little bare, the decor still a little undecided. His eyes well with tears as he looks at them all, so much younger and still so happy, arms slung around each other, glasses in hand. 

"T-Thank you," Junmyeon says. "This is... this is so beautiful." 

"I know it's not much," Sehun says, "especially compared to all the gifts you've already gotten, but—" 

"Stop," Junmyeon says, a hand covering Sehun's. "It's perfect." 

Sehun looks shyly down at the second present. "I'm more nervous for this." 

So Junmyeon unwraps it bravely, revealing a beautiful pale green book, the title emblazoned in black: _The Velveteen Rabbit._

Junmyeon cracks the spine in awe, and he reads the words, small and nervous in the corner on the inside of the front cover. Sehun's handwriting, shaky. Beautiful. 

_I love you_

Sehun   
Christmas '20 

"I remember you telling me it was your favorite book as a child but you lost it when you moved," Sehun says, and he fiddles with his hands. "So I thought I would buy you a new copy. It's not the same, but... you know. The sentiment is there." 

Junmyeon clutches the book to his chest, eyes screwed shut. 

"Is it bad?" Sehun asks. "Are you upset?" 

"N-No, thank you," Junmyeon says, and he lets the book fall to his lap as he crushes Sehun in an embrace. "I—I don't know what to say. I'm so touched. Thank you." 

"I'm glad you like it," Sehun says. "I really am." 

"You wrote you love me," Junmyeon says. "I love you." 

"If you will believe this," Sehun says with a small grin, "I was planning on finally telling you I loved you this Christmas. I bought this on December 1st, wrote the inscription the next day. By the time the twelve days of Christmas rolled around, it kinda felt like someone was stealing my thunder." 

"You know what? I wouldn't believe it," Junmyeon smiles, and when he kisses Sehun hard, nothing else matters besides.  
  


❄

They fall asleep that Christmas night wrapped in warmth and love, and outside the window, a silvery snow streaks by, the laughter of magic floating along the air.

 _Do you think they'll ever know?_ the wind asks the water. 

_It's better that they don't,_ the water tells the wind. 

There is something supernatural and enchanting about the snow. 

The water, the wind, and the cold of Christmas day... they come together in mysterious and magical ways.  
  


❄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/P9Rf5-6N-2c?t=59 
> 
> THE PRESTIGE! it was magic all along! you should have known! it's me, the world's dumbest and corniest woman alive! didn't you notice the medal i wear proudly along my neck! 
> 
> anyhow, this will be my final fic of the year (as you almost certainly guessed—i did get this one in right under the wire, didn't i?) it's been a long year, a long bad year, but i hope you found at least one thing to be joyful about. i found great joy in writing this year. i was glad to be able to share with you. it really makes me happy. thanks for following along, thanks for reading, and thanks for encouraging me! i can't tell you how much i appreciate it.


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